


Sunshine

by Katflap (Batman_in_Lingerie)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward First Times, Awkward Romance, Babies, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Eventual Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Slow Build, Super!baby, Superman clone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 73,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4958587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batman_in_Lingerie/pseuds/Katflap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Bruce received a tip about a new Cadmus lab that opened up he went to investigate with the help of Clark. Neither would have expected to find a baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *FYI this fic was formally known as 'As Time Goes By.'*
> 
> Woop woop new fic! This idea has been floating around in my vacant brain for a while, so hopefully you all enjoy it. :D 
> 
> It's going to be just pure sugar and fluff, but i'm putting it as mature as there are some adult themes in this chapter and most likely in later chapters as well. Anyway, enjoy. c:

It was meant to be a routine operation.

Sadly with Clark around things rarely went as they were meant to, which infuriated Bruce no end.

For instance at this very moment Bruce was hiding in an air ventilation shaft with Clark bundled up behind him. Despite all of his super abilities Clark was still able to trip a motion sensor and bring the base alive with activity. It was a stupid mistake that could have been avoided if Clark would have listened to him when he said he didn't need backup.

Of course Clark wouldn't take that for an answer. After Kon, Cadmus had become somewhat of a pressure point of his. He would always jump on the opportunity to ensure they weren't trying to create another super clone. 

Bruce had acquired some information about this lab from some of his less illustrious sources and whilst there was nothing to indicate another Superboy in production, there were some abnormalities Bruce wanted to investigate and Clark offered his unwanted help. 

Bruce begrudgingly accepted it. With a lot of 'no's', 'Clark for the last time's', and 'Jesus Clark get the hint’s' thrown out.

Getting in was okay. Bruce stuck to the shadows, gliding effortlessly across expanses of space in mere moments with only the faint rustling of fabric hinting that he was even there. Clark used his speed to practically teleport across the room to Bruce's side, but unlike his black clad counterpart, when he moved the entire room was engulfed with a gust of air, toppling over a stack of papers and the hat of a now very confused security guard. 

Once in, and with a pointed glare from Bruce, Clark used his other talents to see where the security camera consoles were stationed. They moved there slowly, with Clark floating gently behind Bruce as he manoeuvred from dark corner to dark corner. Avoiding the cones of vision that the cameras pointed out into the room. They got in easily, the lock being no match for Bruce and they wiped any of the footage that hinted at their presence and then looped what footage there was whilst they investigated the rest of the building. 

Despite the facility being operational there was hardly any security. Bruce voiced this fact at numerous points on their journey through the base, and Clark himself thought it aswell. When Kon was at Cadmus he was engulfed in security. Here however Clark could see how understaffed the place was. The heart beats he detected indicating a mere 10 people milling about. 

Clark couldn't even sense a facility underneath this place meaning that this office building in which he was currently walking was all there was. With paper and a few vaguely informative computers the only thing occupying the space. 

Which may have contributed to his lapse of concentration that led to him now being in a vent with Bruce. 

He had made the mistake of lowering his foot a fraction of a centimeter and suddenly the base was ringing with sirens and the sound of stomping feet. Bruce let out out a frustrated sigh and made toward the air vent, Clark followed dutifully. 

"Throw this out." Bruce pulled something out of his pack and handed it to Clark. Clark blinked at the small item. 

"It's a dead mouse."

Bruce paused as if to give Clark a moment to think but got annoyed when he didn't get it. "It's to give them something to find. They're not going to rest when they think someone is still in the base. If we put a mouse there it will give them a reason for the tripped sensor and they will let us be."

"But it's dead." Clark said dumbly. 

Despite the lead in Bruce's mask distorting most of his face, Clark could still see the incredulous look being thrown his way. "Well yes Clark, I wasn't going to carry a live mouse in my belt on the off chance it was needed. Now stop sitting there and throw the thing where you tripped the sensor."

Clark did as he was told, and winced at the small slap that sounded as the mouse hit the floor by the sensor. He replaced the vent cover and attempted to move to the side to allow Bruce to see what was happening whilst Clark watched through the metal. 

Someone came through a few moments later and immediately made a beeline for the mouse corpse. The fact it was only one person supported the understaffed hypothesis Clark had come to. The problem however was that there had to be 'something' worth guarding here. Even if it was just information on another facility. 

When he looked back to Bruce he saw him typing away on his portable computer. The person outside the vent prodded the mouse with the tip of his gun before he radioed to someone else. The sirens ceased and Clark gave a small sigh. Bruce himself gave no hint of relief and made a move through the vents once he was sure the guard was out of earshot. 

They dropped down to another room, this one with a computer in the corner of it. Bruce moved to it and booted it up as if he was in his own office and not trespassing. The ease he felt seemed at odds with Clark's own unease. The room was plain in decor with a desk and chair being the only furniture in it. A poster of a cat hanging from a branch was above the console and Clark found himself staring at it whilst Bruce worked. 

After a few moments Bruce gave a very small huff of air, his lip twitching up at the corner. Telling Clark in that simple motion that he'd found what he was looking for. "I knew it. This facility is not like the others." Clark lent over his shoulder and looked at the screen before him. It had a list of employees with their qualifications. 

"What do you mean? They all have degrees in biology, chemistry, gene splicing and everything else Luthor looks for in his scientists. What makes them different?" 

"Look at past careers." 

Clark did, and as he read down the list a pattern started to emerge. Carer. Nurse. Midwife. Paediatrician. Even the security guards seemed to have some experience with babysitting and Clark could practically feel his stomach begin to drop. "You don’t think-" 

"I found the map." Clark looked at it but the lines wobbled in his vision and he couldn't make anything out. "To avoid another repeat of earlier we will take the vents." He moved past him and Clark's mouth bobbed with unspoken words. He followed and felt his brain function returning as they moved through the cool metal casing. 

"Bruce, is there a baby here?" He got no response until he gave an exasperated exclamation of Bruce’s name.

"I don't know Clark. When we get to the lab I will tell you." 

They moved solemnly, with Clark getting more and more antsy as he moved. Bruce however moved in practiced motions, turning at each junction with no hint of question in his posture. He knew where he was heading and Clark didn't know if he should be worried or relieved. He kept a steady and unyielding pace never once faltering in his movements, the thump of his knees against the metal the only sounds he gave off.

The lab itself was only slightly more high tech than the rest of the building. With a few more computers, and much more empty space. There were cupboards all around and a quick scope of them revealed diapers and baby food. Clark winced.

Bruce was already making his way to the small room which was cornered off from the rest of the space. Bruce hacked the door of it in a few seconds, and once they were inside they saw a large crib occupying the centre.

Clark approached it slowly not wanting to see what was inside the crib but also knowing he had to. 

He came slowly into his view with each step, first revealing a mop of brunette hair, then glassy blue eyes and then thick leather straps anchoring him to the bed of the crib. 

Clark gasped at the sight. It didn't however stop the baby from laughing as Clark's face came into view and he gazed down upon him. 

Clark wasn’t even aware he was moving his hand towards him until he felt Bruce swat his arm. "Don't. His crib is covered in sensors. We need to disengage them all before we can even think of getting him out.” Bruce stepped forward, fiddling with a device in his belt before handing it to Clark. “Go to the computer and get as much information as you can on what was going on here.” Clark nodded, and moved out of the room though it physically pained him to leave the small bundle in the crib and go back to the computers. He switched them all on and drifted from each of them, pulling all the relevant information he could find and putting it on the USB Bruce gave him. There was a lot here and even Clark had trouble keeping up with it all. 

As far as he could gather, Lex had authorised this procedure when a number of Superman clones failed. 

These new clones were meant to be fully Kryptonian and not like Kon, with his human DNA. However they soon found that the sheer power the body's had destroyed them as soon as they became conscious; there own muscles tensing and crushing their bones and their eyes burning in their sockets.

One of the many Cadmus scientists brought forward the idea of raising the baby outside of the tube, in a somewhat normal environment and modifying its DNA as it grew, rather than doing it all whilst it was in the tube and aging it artificially. It was thought by this method that the clone would be able to withstand the Kryptonian abilities better, and not die instantly. 

That was all Clark was able to read before Bruce was beside him holding a bundle of towels. It was somewhat of a hilarious sight, seeing the dark and brooding Batman holding a small, wriggling baby. Clark handed the now full USB’s to Bruce who took them and put them back in his belt. “I only managed to read a bit, but we can check out the rest back at the cave.” Bruce nodded and they moved back towards the vents. Clark didn't miss how the baby craned its neck to look at him, and Clark couldn't help the small smile that pulled at his lips as a result.

There escape was easy. With the base unaware of the missing infant, everything was still as they crawled back through the vents. They made a quick visit back to the security station to unloop the footage and then ventured to the Batwing hidden amongst a cluster of trees. 

When they got back to the cave, Alfred was already there, waiting with a table filled with assorted baby supplies, standing in strong contrast with the rest of the architecture of the cave. Clark wanted to laugh at how absurd of a sight it was but he was drawn so tight that all he gave out was a nervous giggle, which sounded more like a cough. Despite the butler's presence, Bruce kept ahold of the baby as he sat down at his computer and plugged in the USB’s. The baby touched the kevlar and seemed to frown at the hard material. “Bruce, I don't think he likes your suit...” Clark said quietly.

“Perhaps I should take the young master as you get changed out of your uniform, master Bruce.” Bruce gave a few more seconds of seeming ignorance before getting up and handing over the baby.

“The files are uploading. I'll read them when I get back.” He walked toward the locker room before turning back to Clark. “Did you want to stay here tonight?”

“Yeah, I mean, if that’s okay…” Bruce shrugged and looked to Alfred who nodded his head in acknowledgement. 

Clark heard the showers turn on and as they did the computer seemed to come to life with various reports as well as numerous folders organised by date. Clark tried to read a few but the baby beside him drew his attention and his head snapped away from the console when he heard him gurgle happily. Alfred fed it some milk as they waited, and Clark watched in awe as the man seemed to effortlessly satiate the baby's needs before he even realised what it was he wanted. He was fed and burped and Alfred sat himself on Bruce's chair as he started to rock the baby gently in his arms.

The amount of time that past felt like a few seconds but when Bruce was back next to him, hair dripping with warm water, he realised how long he had been staring. “Alfred why don't you get Clark's bedroom prepared. We will take care of the baby.” Alfred got up and passed him over to Bruce.

“Of course master Bruce. However, might I suggest you come up with a name for him? Unless you intend to call him ‘baby’ from here on out.” And with that he moved away from them, ascending up the long winding stairs of the batcave.

Bruce paused before taking his seat. “He's right, and since he is technically your baby you should name him.” As he sat down in the seat, the baby began to wriggle around, moving his head to look at Clark. 

“I haven't even held him yet.” He said softly as he watched those giant blue eyes look up at him. Bruce stopped his reading and swiveled in his chair lifting him up for Clark to grab before turning back around.

As Clark reached for him he felt his heart swell, and his eyes begin to water. He was so small, and the way he giggled at Clark made his legs feel like jelly. “The baby must realise you're his father.” Bruce voiced quietly, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“I doubt that… I mean, maybe? Maybe he can sense i'm not human. Or-”

“He's very intelligent apparently; able to recognise his carers, not just by sight but by heart beats. At least that’s what they theorize he's able to do it by. Do Kryptonian’s have different heart beats?”

“Not that i’ve experienced, but everyone does have a distinct heartbeat that I can pick up on, so it makes sense that he can do it too.” He brought the baby up closer to his face, looking at his small features which were almost like a mirror to his own. 

Bruce nodded distantly before going back to reading. The room went quiet as he did so, Clark tried to read as well, but the baby not being content to sit idly by as no one paid attention to him would gurgle and hit his little fists against Clark's hand, forcing him to start to rock him and coo. Clark would like to say it was annoying but he genuinely found himself getting absorbed in the motions.

His revoir was only broken when Bruce gave a quiet ‘ah’. 

Now, Clark was good at reading Bruce, and in fact one of his biggest tells was his tone of voice. Even when Bruce was deep in his Brucie persona if you knew what to look for you could practically hear Batman talking. His face was like a mask most of the time, with very few tells, but his voice was another thing entirely.

Which was why Clark felt his heart stop when Bruce uttered that half word. “What, what is it?” He leant over Bruce's shoulder and read through the open article, getting about half way before stopping. “No…” 

Apparently the way they were changing the baby's DNA was with routine injections of Kryptonian hormones distilled from Clark’s own blood. The problem however was that there were originally three babies, each being injected at different rates. One injected daily, the other every 3 days and the last once a week. The first baby died of an overdose, and the last experienced withdrawal symptoms in between injections until dying of a heart attack on the 5th day without an injection. 

The baby in his arms was the only one to survive. Clark didn't even want to think about the number of children that died before these two. They would have had to figure out quantities and he doubted any if those got out alive. Clark wanted to vomit. In fact he nearly did with the only thing stopping him being those big blue eyes watching him. "What about are we going to do? If we don't get those hormones Cyrus might-"

"Cyrus?"

Clark faltered. "I just thought- I thought it was a nice name.... I mean-"

"No..." Bruce went quiet. "You're right. It is a nice name. Suits him. " Bruce was facing him and brought his finger up to graze Cyrus's cheek. "Cyrus." Bruce said the name softly, testing how it felt on his tongue. “Good choice Clark."

Cyrus stared at Bruce, and as he did Bruce started to hum a tune softly. Clark swore he recognized it but the name escaped him, the tone however seemed to cause Cyrus’s eyes to drift closed and Clark felt his own drawn to Bruce's worn face. His mouth had a small kink in the corners that only only a few would be able to know was a smile. "We can't go back to Cadmus. With Cyrus gone security is going to be up and we can't risk going back. We will need to make the hormone combination ourselves."

Bruce got up and Clark may have winced as he went to the container or syringes. "Luckily we have you to get the hormones from, and even better we have the quantities they used in the files." He opened the case and Cyrus turned his head to look at the new noise only to wail instantly. 

His cries pierced the somewhat calm of the cave and Bruce immediately slammed the case closed. "Clark, do something." And even though Clark was capable of flight, lifting a battleship and shooting lasers from his eyes this seemed like the impossible task. "Oh, for the love of-" Bruce reached for Cyrus and took him from Clark’s now weakened grip. He tried tried to wiggle free but after a few minutes of rocking and cooing, though Bruce would probably joust him with Kryptonite if he ever told anyone he 'cooed', Cyrus seemed to calm down. Though now he seemed more unsure of everything, gurgling unhappily. He wasn't screaming anymore however, which Clark counted as a plus. "I don't think Cyrus likes needles." Bruce murmured. 

"To be fair, I don't like needles either..." He added as he watched Bruce move his arms from side to side. It was almost hypnotic, like a pendulum swinging. 

“It makes sense. He's like little Albert.” 

“Little Albert?”

“It was a psychological experiment into classical conditioning. They had a baby, who had no fear of rats, but was afraid of loud noises. Whilst he was playing with the rat, they banged a steel bar and Albert would get frightened. They repeated this until the rat on its own caused Albert to become scared. It's a similar thing here, Cyrus at first had no reason to be afraid of needles, but after being injected and the subsequent pain it caused him, the sight of them alone causes him to cry.” 

Clark pursed his lips. “That sounds awful... Who would do that to a baby?” Clark walked forward and ruffled Cyrus small tuft of hair, he was in a far better mood now, sighing as Clark petted him. 

Alfred came down soon after stating that Clark's guest suite was ready, Bruce and Alfred seemed to have a silent conversation as Cyrus was handed over to the other. “Clark named his Cyrus.” Alfred gave another nod, this time letting his eyes flick over to Clark and smiling softly. He moved out of the cave and with little preamble Bruce opened the case of syringes again. “These are tipped with Kryptonite so they may sting when they go in.” 

Clark gave a terse nod. “That's fine.”

“I'll also have to take the blood from each gland to ensure a strong hormone concentration.”

“Of course.”

“That does mean I will have to put a needle in your neck.”

A nod.

“Also in your chest.”

Another nod.

“And your testicles.”

Clark sputtered.

“I'm kidding.” 

There was no hint of humour in his voice and Clark looked at him incredulously, Bruce sighed softly and shook his head. “I'm just going to take a sample from your arm and distill the hormones from there. We can artificially reproduce them similarly to how they did it in Cadmus. As I will be getting a larger sample than the drop Cadmus has been working with hopefully the process will be shorter.” His fingers stilled over the syringe. “His last injection was yesterday so we have two days before he will need his next one.” He turned, holding the needle. Even though the amount of Kryptonite on them was tiny Clark could still feel its effects. Atleast he assumed that was what was causing the nausea he felt. “Close your eyes, it will be over before you know it.” 

Clark did as he was told and and soon the fabric of his suit was pulled up and over the crook of his elbow. Bruce's callused fingers grazed the area of his skin before Clark felt a cool liquid getting rubbed across. He wanted to mention the absurdity of disinfecting the skin, but he didn't want Bruce to ‘accidently’ miss his vein. 

As the needle pierced through his skin, the area in his arm lite up in pain. He grunted and tried to hold in his whimpers, and just as soon as it went in, it was gone, with only a slight tingling to indicate what was once there. 

He eased open his eyes and felt that even the dim light of the cave was suddenly too bright for him. He winced. “Is that everything?”

Bruce gave an affirmative grunt as he went about analysing the blood sample, no doubt he would be up for a few hours working before allowing himself to sleep. Clark frowned at the idea. “Maybe you should get some sleep.” 

“I don't know the exact length of time that will be needed to create the hormones. I need to work quickly in case-” He huffed loudly. “Go to bed Clark.” 

He considered it, but he couldn't just leave Bruce here in the cold, dark of the cave whilst he was upstairs sleeping. “Bruce come on. A few hours of sleep won't do any harm and we could always get the League to help with the hormones if need be.” He moved in careful steps towards the computer, knowing he was already stepping over some firmly places boundaries. “Just a few hours.” He repeated evenly, hoping his voice sounded more confident than he felt. 

Bruce kept typing and with each second Clark felt his resolve crumble in large chunks around him. He wondered if Bruce even heard him and didn’t get his answer until he stopped hearing the clacking of keys. “Fine. A few hours.” Bruce strode past him before turning his head back around and staring pointedly at Clark who couldn't help the grin that spread on his face as he practically skipped to where Bruce stood. Bruce himself rolled his eyes as he walked up the stairs to the manor. 

Clark let his ears focus on the heart beats in the house, including Alfred’s and Cyrus’s. After being with him for a bit Clark could pick out his heartbeat with more ease than before and knew they were in the kitchen. He could also hear a third heartbeat with them and smiled when he recognised it. “Bruce, I think you have a visitor.” 

Bruce arched an eyebrow at him, but didn’t question when Clark told him to head towards the kitchen. He walked with purpose through the study and the corridors leading to the kitchen and as they entered it was as if a coil in Bruce came undone, his muscles seemed to loosen and his posture became lax. “Dick.” He said evenly. “How long have you been here?” He moved towards the man currently fawning over the small baby in his arms. Alfred stood by the hob, warming a sauce pan of milk. He turned only to see who entered, and quickly went back to his task. 

“Only a few minutes. I was swinging by ‘cause I was visiting Babs and I thought whilst I was in Gotham i’d come say hi.” He paused to look at Cyrus. “But I had no idea I would find the cutest baby in the world when I got here though.” His voice was high and squeaky as he spoke, directing it to Cyrus who in turn brought his little fingers up to Dick’s mouth only for Dick to then pretend to eat them. Cyrus giggles reached a new octave and Dick laughed back. “Seriously. Where did you find him? He is precious.” Despite now talking to Bruce again he didn't look away from Cyrus.

Bruce moved into the room and fell onto the stool by the counter. “He's a clone of Clark. We found him in a Cadmus laboratory.” 

That seemed to halt Dick’s movements, if it wasn't for the rustling of fabrics in his arms you'd have thought time had frozen. “He's a clone?” He looked between Cyrus and Clark a few times before nodding solemnly. “Now that you mention it, he does have a certain Clarkiness to him.” He sat down next to Bruce and Cyrus turned to see who was being spoken to, and smiled when he saw Bruce and Clark. “What are you going to do with him? Or is that a stupid question considering your track record with orphans.” 

“He's Clark’s baby, so it's his decision.” He said stiffly.

“I’d say he was both of yours. So it's ‘both’ of yours decisions.” He winked and turned his attention back to Cyrus, who in the brief time of being without cuddles started to grumble and grasp at the longs wisps of hair falling across Dick’s face. “Ow, he really is a super baby.” Dick tried to pry the little fingers from his hair and when that failed he passed him off to Bruce who grasped him automatically. Feeling the new hands on him Cyrus’s grip on Dick was forgotten and he tried to grab at Bruce instead. “I think I better head back to Bludhaven though. I have work tomorrow.” He got up from his chair. “Have fun with the bundle of joy!” He said winking at Clark. As he walked past his chair he gave a half hug to Bruce. “See you later big B.” He bent down to blow a raspberry at Cyrus. “Night night sunshine.” He looked up to the hob. “Goodnight Alfred.” 

He was gone soon after and Clark was left in the room with his clone, his best friend, his best friend’s butler and the smell of warm milk with a touch of vanilla. Alfred poured the milk into two mugs and handed one to Bruce and the other to Clark. They sipped at it slowly, savouring the warmth it gave them both. “I'm afraid I am low on baby formula, I will buy more at the shops tomorrow as well as a few other essentials. Is there anything else you would like me to pick up?” 

Bruce considered it for a moment. “I don't know yet. I need to speak with Clark about a few things, if you would excuse us Alfred.” 

“Of course master Bruce.”

Bruce got up and ushered Clark after him, they moved to the living room, which was just as dark as the rest of the manor. Apparently nobody liked to turn on lights in this house, and the only thing illuminating the room was the moonlight streaming in through the open windows and even that was minimal with the moon covered under a blanket of clouds. Bruce sat on the couch not waiting for Clark to sit before talking. “What do you want to do with him?”

Clark noticed a few bats flying across the horizon before he turned to Bruce. “What do you mean?”

“Clark he's your child. If you want to take him back to Metropolis or Smallville that’s fine. I just want to make a proposal.” 

Clark gave a nod.

“He could stay here in the manor. Alfred is always home so he would have someone to look after him, and more so if he starts exhibiting super abilities there is no fear of your secret being discovered. There are numerous security measures ensuring that no one will be able to enter the manor without my permission, and finally you would be able to visit whenever you like or even-” All through his speech Bruce spoke with the same even tone he would use if he was talking to his associates in a meeting, however almost in an instant, his voice became soft, with a fragile air. “Or you could stay here at the manor. Alfred has already prepared you a room, and you could simply travel to Metropolis for work and live here in Gotham.”

He didn't know what to think. His mind was running on fumes at this point and the idea of making this kind of a decision made his temples ache. “Bruce, I need to think about this. It's late and-” 

“Of course. I wouldn't want you to make this kind of decision quickly. I'll just tell Alfred to buy the basics and nothing major.” He strode past him and halted by the door. “Good night Clark.” 

“‘Night Bruce.”

And with that he was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the first chapter, hopefully it gives a good impression as to what's to come. I may be alone in my belief that Bruce is secretly the best dad ever, but I genuinely think he would have researched the crap out of babies and would know a lot about them. Okay, yeah, that's all. Hope you all enjoyed and till next time. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

When he awoke, it was to the sun filtering through the blinds engulfing the room in some much needed warmth and light. Clark rose and got changed, he didn’t have any of his own clothes here, but when he opened the wardrobe in this room he found a selection of Bruce's old clothes that were a tad worn and just about his size. He would have thought it a mistake, but he knew Alfred well enough to see its intent.

He changed into a slightly stained dress shirt with some pants that were too short for him and a mustard yellow tie. He was sure that it must be impossible to wear Bruce Wayne’s clothes and make them look bad, but somehow he managed it.

As he walked out the door he turned to his left and saw Bruce standing at Cyrus’s door looking in. His face was a carefully blank with only mild confusion coming through. Clark made his way over to him. “Everything okay?”

Bruce turned his head by a fraction. “I think I've discovered why Cyrus was strapped down in his crib.”

Clark poked his head in and frowned at the empty space on the bed. After a second however he saw movement, it wasn't however ‘in’ the bed.

Cyrus, sound asleep, tossed and turned whilst laying against the plaster of the ceiling. He seemed just as content as if he was sleeping on the soft bedding. Clark drifted slowly up into the air above the bed, letting his hands come into contact with Cyrus’s pudgy torso. He seemed to roll into the touch and Clark had no trouble pulling him towards his arms.

He drifted back down towards Bruce and stood in front of him, gently rocking the baby in his arms. "I think Cyrus slept well."

Bruce face cracked into a small smile. "I think so too. Though I have to wonder how your parents dealt with you floating from your crib.”

“I think ma would have mentioned if I floated as a baby.” He frowned. “In fact, I don't think I starting showing my powers until I was at least ten."

Bruce’s eyebrows creased together as he stared at Cyrus. "I was worried you were going to say that..." He heaved a sigh and stepped away from the doorway to let Clark out. "You better eat before you go to work. Alfred made-"

"Buttermilk pancakes. I can smell them." They practically assaulted his nose with the scent of maple syrup and warm butter. Stepping out into the hallway seemed to make the scent stronger as Cyrus's head perked up and his eyes opened slowly. He yawned and balled his fists as he stretched in Clark's arms before seeming to become aware of the men around him and smiling up at them. "Morning sunshine..." Clark said softly.

Bruce scoffed. "Don't let Dick hear you calling home that. He doesn't need the ego boost." He held an arm up behind Clark back, barely pressing against him. "Come on. You don't want the pancakes to get cold."

They walked to the kitchen, as they approached the room Cyrus’s wiggles intensified. "I think he's hungry."

"He's going to be disappointed when he gets gets a mouthful of strained plumes."

Clark went quiet. "Well I would be too if I got plumes instead of pancakes..."

Bruce gave him a level look, his lip barely up at the side. “I'll make sure to tell Alfred that."

The kitchen was warm when they entered and it made Clark aware as to why it was called the heart of the home. Alfred was busy putting the food on the counter and only looked up briefly. "Good morning master Bruce, mister Clark. I trust you both slept well."

Bruce gave a nod of the head and picked up a plate. "What did you want Clark? Unless you want to plate for yourself." He turned to Alfred who was still putting fruit into one of the bowls. "Did you find the high chair Alfred?”

"I'm afraid not master Bruce. It was slightly worse for wear but I will buy another at the shops today."

"I see." He looked at Clark and pursed his lips. He quickly piled a few pancakes onto the plate as well as some strawberries, bacon and a healthy splash of maple syrup. "Clark, eat. I'll feed Cyrus." He set the plate down and Clark moved towards him, handing over the wriggling baby. "Jesus..." He said quietly. "He is strong." Bruce tried to move him in his arms, but Cyrus kept moving and Bruce’s hand slipped.

Clark thrust his hands forward, grabbing him back from Bruce before he completely lost his grip. They both stared at him wide eyed. "Well. That was-" A cry bubbled from Cyrus. "How about- I hold him and you feed him. Sound good?" Clark said quickly.

Bruce gave a shallow nod. He grabbed the baby food pots from the table of fruit and small bowl of porridge Alfred made. It was still warm, with a drizzle of syrup over the top. Clark held Cyrus firmly on his lap with one arm wrapped around his small waist. With his free hand he ate slowly from the plate of food Bruce gave him. The pancakes were warm and fluffy and Clark hummed his enjoyment throughout his devouring of the plate. When he was finished Alfred offered to get him more food which he accepted greedily.

Cyrus was somewhat happy with his breakfast. The porridge he ate quickly but as soon as Bruce got to the plumes he turned his head away from the spoon and tried to crawl across Clark’s lap. Even hiding his face in Clark shirt. "I don't think he likes plumes Bruce."

Bruce leant himself with an elbow on the counter. His eyes drifting over the assortment of food, they paused at the berries. He spooned a few into a bowl and pressed them to a fine mush with his fork. He brought a small spoonful up to Cyrus’s lips and held it up for him to investigate. After a few moments he's turned his head away from Clark’s shirt, moving closer to the offered berries. He opened his mouth just barely and Bruce brought the spoon forward, the mashed berries barely making it into his mouth. He seemed to like it however, and smacked his lips after the first bite. "I just don't think he liked the bland food." Bruce eyed the strained plumes. "Have you ever eaten one of these Clark? Tastes like watery pulp." He gave another spoon full of berries to Cyrus. "I don't think you should buy more baby food Alfred. I doubt Cyrus will be eating it."

"Of course master Bruce."

Clark kept eating the food in front of him. Ma had once said he seemed to have an insatiable appetite and whilst he was sure that was true, it also had to do with the food. If the food was good he would keep eating until he got funny looks. Luckily that didn't happen until he had his fifth plate of pancakes. He stopped eating after that, giving his full attention to Cyrus who seemed content in his arms, prodding him with his fingers. "I' don't think he used to someone being stronger than him." Bruce murmured, as he watched Cyrus attempt to pry Clark’s fingers off of his belly. "I’ll need to read more of the files. They should offer more insight into how they looked after him.” He tapped his fingers on the counter. “I'll also work on the hormone distillation. I don't think I have the appropriate equipment but i'm sure Ray will.” He got up and took the now placated Cyrus into his arms, he came easily with little fussing now he was full of food. Bruce boobed him a few times. “Don't you have to go to work.”

This jolted Clark in his seat. “What time is it?”

Bruce looked at his watch. “8:55.”

“Aw heck, i'm gonna be late!” Clark got up and stood looking around the room at a loss for what to do, seemingly overwhelmed by everything.

Bruce huffed a laugh. “Only the fastest man alive would be late for work.”

With a pointed glare Clark stepped toward Bruce. “Haha, very funny.” He crouched down to Cyrus, brushing his lips against his forehead. “See you later sunshine.” He brought himself back up to Bruce's height and glanced at those stormy eyes, and didn’t miss the warmth in them. “I may be late coming here, I have to deal with a few things after work.”

“That's fine. Have fun.” He used one of his hands to lift Cyrus’s own and maneuvered it into a small waving motion. “He says bye back.”

Clark beamed, and gave a small wave back to Cyrus, who seemed to understand this as a gesture as he continued to do it without Bruce interference. “Alright, i’m off. Thanks for the food Alfred!”

Even with his speed he was late. He flew to the alley way right next to the Daily Planet, but then he had to straighten out his clothes and ‘walk’ towards the building, rather than speed his way there. He had to show precaution when going to work, or anywhere really. The last thing he needed was a security camera picking up his sudden transportation. He was already getting a few to many, ‘wow Clark you sure do look like Superman’s’ and he didn't want to add to it.

Lois looked at him pointedly as he strode in at 9:03 but he just gave his best sheepish smile and hoped for the best. As he fell into his desk Perry walked in and cast a glance around the room. Clark tried to look like he was already working, typing on his keyboard despite his computer not even being on yet. Thankfully Perry passed quickly through and didn't comment on Clark's lateness.

“Smallville.” Lois said evenly as she walked over, eyes staying on the startup screen of his PC. “You're lucky Perry didn't catch you. You're already on thin ice with him.”

He sighed. “I know…” He stopped his fake typing and looked up at her. “I just had a pretty hectic night is all. It won't happen again. I promise.”

Lois thankfully didn't comment on this technically being the fifth time he promised he wouldn't be late again, but she did have the courtesy to roll her eyes. “Of course. Just make sure to get that article on that Russian missile base done and you'll be back in my good books.” Clark gave a faux salute and turned back to his computer.

He typed away most of the morning, letting his mind get drawn in by the task. The sound of clacking keys the only thing he allowed to get into his mind. He certainly didn't try to focus on two heartbeats whilst he worked, and he certainly didn't have to fight the urge to call Bruce when he heard one of said heartbeats increase rapidly. He kept typing and finished the article before lunch. He even started on some of his own personal writing just to give him something to do, though he did bring up the finished article and pretend to rearrange words when either Lois or Perry walked by.

Sadly with his own writing he didn't have the ability to let his mind drift and go on autopilot. Instead he found himself typing a sentence then listening for Bruce and Cyrus, only to get jolted back to reality by hearing a nearby phone ringing or an errant laugh drift through the office.

When he was with Bruce he was able to ignore the pull he felt towards him. It didn’t help that with Cyrus he was seeing him smile and laugh more than he ever had in the years they had been friends. Seeing that side of him was not helping matters, and it didn’t help that Clark couldn’t even figure out what he was feeling.

He practically burst out of the building when it was home time, and soon he was back in his apartment. He expected the familiarity of the place to help satiate the unknown anxiety within him but all it did was make him more antsy. He had a shower, changed his clothes and even made himself a small dinner and still he felt his skin crawling as he milled about his apartment.

In a way he knew what he had to do as soon as he walked in but there was something about the task that made him want to put it off for as long as possible. Eventually however he sat down on his sofa, pulled out his phone and called his most frequent dialed number.

“Hiya sweetie. How are you doing?”

“Hey ma... I'm good, just need to tell you something pretty huge.”

There was a stilted silence on the other end of the phone, Ma’s hearing was going and it took her a while to pick up what was being said sometimes. “What is it hun?”

Clark rubbed his face with his hand. “I kind of have a son.”

Another silence, though he doubted this one was due to lack of hearing. “A son? Clark are you serious? I have a grandson?!”

“Yeah Ma… He's kinda, I mean, he's not my ‘son’ more my…” He bit his lip. “Clone.”

“Oh.” Clark could hear her heavy breathing down the phone. “Are you okay sweetie?”

“Yeah, Ma… I'm fine. Just you know, kinda shaken I guess? Hasn't really hit me that i'm now a dad.” He got up and paced around the room, staring at the picture he had of ma and pa on his wall as he spoke. “I mean most dads get at least a few months notice before they have to look after a baby… I feel so unprepared.”

She paused for a moment. “Do you know what you're going to do with him?”

“No... I have no idea. At the moment Bruce is helping me take care of him, but I don't know where to go from there. Should I raise him in Metropolis or have you look after him in Smallville-” He bit his lip as Bruce's third suggestion pressed against his lips, but he swallowed it down. “I just don't know what to do. What do you think Ma?”

After a lengthy silence that at first Clark thought meant the line was dead, he heard his mother's breathy sigh. “Clark honey, i’ll support you no matter what you do, but you need to think what's best for the baby. If you think it would better for him here with me, Kon and Kara we will look after him. If you think he'd be better with you in Metropolis that's fine too. Give it some time though, maybe let him experience them both and let him choose. Babies are very smart you know.”

Clark smiled, though it was more from habit than actually happiness. “Thanks ma. I'll bring him to visit you guys soon. There is just a few things I need to do with him before that can happen.”

“Good. Cause I think your cousins have been eavesdropping on this conversation and want to meet him.”

As if on cue Clark heard the phone being manhandled and a new lighter voice reached his ear. “Clark? Is it true? You have a baby? Kon said you did, and because I don't eavesdrop I have no idea what you said, but is it true?” He could hear the background noise of an indignant Kon attempting to get the phone whilst Kara kept talking. “When can we see him? Can I baby sit? You haven't even said what his name is!!” She was definitely outside now, and judging by the strong turbulence now coming through the receiver, she was flying.

“Yes it's true. You can see him soon, and yes you can babysit. His name is Cyrus. Now go back home, I doubt Ma will be happy if you break her phone.”

“Fine.” The wind stopped almost immediately. “But he better be coming soon. Otherwise i'm flying there and taking him myself and i'm gonna be his favourite aunt.”

“Kara you're his only aunt.”

“Even better- hey, Kon don't-”

“-Clark! You have a baby?-”

“-I already asked him all this dummy, I’ll tell you when we get back home-”

“-Nuh uh, you won't tell me shit! You'll be like ‘Kon make me tea and then i'll tell you-”

“-I did that like once! And it's not my fault you were ‘that’ desperate to know if Tim had a crush on you-”

“-Kara! I can't believe… You- Fuck- Clark don't tell Bruce-”

“-Why the hell would he tell Bruce you wanna bone his-”

“-Kara, Jesus shut the fuck up!-”

Clark tried not to laugh. He really did, but something in him broke and he belted out a laugh that seemed to shake the room.

“Clark it's not funny! Fuck, Kara I hate you so much, when I find something about you i'm telling everyone I know!”

“Okay, so Tim and Bart? I think I can handle that.”

“God fucking damnit it. Fine. You win.”

The phone seemed to be handed back, and Kara’s sunny voice came through. “Okay Clark, we’re gonna head home now. Make sure to bring Cyrus here soon! Love you, byyyyyyyyye.”

And they were gone. Well, he could still hear the thump of their heartbeats way off in his conscious, but everything else was so quiet in comparison.

After 10 minutes of sitting and staring into space he flew to Gotham. He entered through the cave, knowing the security protocol there better than the ones for the manor itself. He also suspected Bruce would be down here and luckily he was correct when he got to the computer and saw Bruce sat typing away with Cyrus sitting next to him in a pristine high chair playing with a rattle. “Clark.” Bruce said evenly. Cyrus himself clocked him as soon as he came into the cave and giggled happily. “It turns out Cyrus is a better sensor than any machine. He started smiling as soon as you were in the woods.”

“Damn… He really has got good hearing.” He approached them and lifted Cyrus up as soon as he was near. “Read anything interesting?”

Bruce turned in his chair. “I read up on his daily routines. He has breakfast at 8 then play time, then nap, then aptitude tests, lunch, another nap, play time, another test, then dinner.” He turned back to the computer and pulled up another file. “Here is where I read up on his sleeping habits. Apparently he started floating after 2 weeks of the injections. That's about when all of his abilities started to manifest actually. He can't do it when he's awake it seems. Only when he sleeping. He also only exhibits strength when upset.”

Clark frowned at the file. “Do I wanna know how they figured that out?”

“Sleep deprivation and starvation.” Bruce said softly before pursing his lips and after a stretch of silence he rubbed the back of his neck. “You said ‘do’ you want to know not ‘I’ want to know… Sorry. I-” He coughed. “Just forget I said that.” He turned back slowly to the PC, continuing to read. Clark sighed as he watched the back of Bruce's firm shoulders rise and fall with each breath, it was clear he didn’t know what to say and Clark had to smile at that.

“How’s the hormone production coming?”

Bruce nodded a tad forcefully. “Good. I handed over the blood samples to Ray and he's going to distill them for me. He's met Cyrus.” Bruce turned in his seat, a small smile on his lips. “He cried when Ray held him.”

Clark arched an eyebrow. “And that's a good thing ‘because’?”

Bruce shrugged. “It just means I may be able to get him to do the same thing with Ollie and Hal.”

Clark chuckled heartily and couldn't help the way his cheeked burns when Bruce's smile grew further, just hitting his eyes. He doubted it was even possible to get Bruce to laugh or grin when he wasn't Brucie, but he had a feeling this was as close as it got. “I don't know how I feel about you using my baby to exact your evil deeds on our co workers.”

“I can’t help that he's the perfect accomplice.”

They looked at eachother for a few more moments before Bruce went back to his computer. “Ray said he'll bring the hormones over once they’re distilled. He’s going to make a lot, as we don't yet know how long we need to inject him for.” Bruce brought up another article. “Apparently they were going to continue it until his own body took over production, which if what you say is correct is in ten years.” Bruce sighed, and the weight of everything seemed to take whatever light he had away. “They started his injections when he was 5 months old, and as he is now six months he's had approximately 10 injections. Which means he has 1200 to go until we can stop giving them.” Bruce rubbed his face. “However i'm wondering if the injections will cause his glands to produce the hormones at an abnormal rate, or that they never will produce them and we will need to keep giving them and-”

“Hey hey Bruce, timeout…” It didn't take a genius to see when Bruce was distressed. He may not show it overtly, but the way his voice sped up and started to get slightly higher in pitch was enough of a hint. “Look. Everything will be alright. We have the files and we can do whatever works for Cyrus. We have options.” He huffed. “I mean I don’t know those options but-”

Bruce gave a slow nod of his head despite the downright deplorable speech Clark gave. “You’re right. I just overthink things I suppose.” He brushed a small lock of Cyrus’s hair that was starting to resemble Clark's own spit curl, and Clark noticed small bruises developing on Bruce's hand. “You should bring him up to Alfred. He hasn't had dinner yet and I think he's hungry.”

“Of course.” He made a move away from the console before turning back around. “Bruce, after we’ve given Cyrus's injection, would it be okay for me to take him to visit Ma?”

Bruce turned towards him, his eyes curiously wide. “Of course Clark.”

He made his way up the steep steps, letting himself float lazily instead of using his legs. He normally wasn't that bad, able to walk up a few flight of stairs without much annoyance. But the stairs to the batcave wound around the outer cave walls, with stalactites and dripping water making it a perilous journey up and down them. Despite that fact, he'd only ever seen one person trip down them and that was himself.

Alfred was in the kitchen when he walked in, and there was another high chair up here as well. He plopped Cyrus in the seat and approached Alfred. “What you cooking Alfred?”

“Meatloaf and mashed potatoes for the adults, and the same with less seasoning blended up for the young Master.” Alfred said as he stirred a few pots simultaneously. Clark sniffed hungrily at the smell of roasting meat and creamy potato. Cyrus himself seemed to realise food was coming as he clapped his hands excitedly. “It will be ready in a few minutes, but master Bruce has discovered that young Cyrus has a problem with waiting, so some warm milk should satiate him until supper is ready.” Without breaking his stride, Alfred reached for the bottle in the baby warmer and handed it to Clark. “Feed it to him slowly, and test to ensure it's not too hot.” Clark bobbed his head and approached the high chair.

It swayed precariously from side to side as Cyrus rocked. Clark approached slowly with genuine worry crossing his face at the thought of what Cyrus could unleash on the world if he went hungry. Then again, he was no better when he was hungry either so he couldn’t exactly judge his clone for feeling the same. He sat down on his chair and placed the bottle down, bringing Cyrus to his lap before readjusting him. He had to use more strength than he was used to as he did so. He knew that the grip he was currently using to stabilize Cyrus would bruise a human and he wasn’t sure what to make of that realisation.

Cyrus however seemed none to bothered about that and just kept grumbling loudly whilst attempting to reach for the bottle still sitting on the table. “How the hell did you manage to feed him at lunch time?”

“With great difficulty.” Alfred said as he stirred the potatoes. “He has a very strong grip.”

Clark brought the bottle to Cyrus's lips. “He didn't hurt you though, did he?” He asked quietly, whilst looking between the bottle of milk emptying rapidly and Alfred.

“A few bruises, but I assure master Bruce has had worse. I myself only received a scratch.”

Clark frowned down at Cyrus who seemed oblivious as he happily suckeled on the bottle. It had been full a few seconds ago and now was almost half empty. “Maybe I should fly here and help feed him during my lunch. I wouldn’t mind…” He said softly to Cyrus, who seemed to sense the gravity of the conversation and briefly stopped drinking, only to continue once Clark smiled at him.

Food was ready soon after. Alfred started to place down the platters of meatloaf, potatoes and veggies, as well as the plates. He then brought round a bowl of blended potatoes, beans and meatloaf. “I've thinned it out with some water, when we fed him at lunch we did something similar but I feel he'll enjoy this more.” Clark put his spoon in the pale slurry and grimaced at the way it plopped from the spoon back into the bowl, he tried a bit and gave a small hum.

“Well it tastes good atleast. Hopefully Cyrus doesn't eat with his eyes.” There was no problem with that however as as soon as the food was within an inch of his face Cyrus jolted forward and wrapped his lips around the spoon sucking on it greedily before releasing it and smacking his lips. He giggled and bounced as he waited for Clark to bring him his next bite.

Bruce came in soon after, typing away on his phone. “Apparently his favorite food is chocolate.”

Clark stopped the spoon just short of Cyrus mouth and elicited a loud bark of a cry in response. “Chocolate?”

Bruce hummed. “Apparently if he did good on tests the way they rewarded him with chocolate mousse.” He sat down next to Clark. “Alfred.”

“I shall put it on the list sir.”

He hummed before grabbing himself a plate and looking to Clark. “Did you want me to plate you up some?” Clark nodded and Bruce proceeded to overload his plate with food, to the point that Clark was sure any minor bump would cause it to topple over. He took the fork Bruce offered him and ate the food in small bites. He was immediately assaulted with the salty richness of the meatloaf and he had to stifle a groan. It was delicious and he was glad he was eating this and not Cyrus’s mush.

Cyrus however didn't seem to mind, hovering down his bowl and then clapping his hands and shouting ‘ug! ug!’ which Clark quickly established meant ‘more! more!’ Alfred was already next to him holding out another bowl to which Clark gladly accepted.

They ate in relative silence, with only the occasional murmur from Cyrus disturbing the relative peace. Clark ate more than his fair share, and prodded Bruce when he noticed he'd eaten so little. “You not hungry?”

Bruce looked up from his phone, his eyes quickly darting between Cyrus and Clark. He quirked an eyebrow at him. “Sorry?”

“I asked, are you not hungry? You've hardly eaten.” Cyrus by now had finished his second bowl and was chatting his chorus of ugs! but Alfred decided he'd had enough for tonight so Clark was left to deal with his petulant frown.

“I guess not. I don't usually eat too much in the evenings. Especially when I have a patrol.” Bruce tapped a message out on his phone. “Are you going out tonight as well or are you going to stay with Cyrus?”

Clark strained his ears towards Metropolis and didn't hear any more sirens than usual or any cries for Superman so he smiled down at Cyrus. “I'll stay with sunshine…” He looked back up to Bruce. “I mean if anything happens i'll just put him to bed and come out.”

All he got in return was nod. “Of course. If you need me just contact me on the computer.” He paused for a moment. “Or just find me. You being Superman i'll assume that's an easy feat.” He left the table after a quick thank you to Alfred and Clark heard his footsteps all the way down to the cave, where they slowly became echos.

He left the table soon after and moved around the manor. He himself hadn't really seen much of it, tending to keep to certain areas of it. He found himself walking around the open hallways and didn't really have an idea of what to do. Cyrus seemed content to be carried and babbled to Clark as they walked, clapping his hands at certain points. Clark found himself agreeing with the babbles, even throwing in his own opinions on what he thought Cyrus was talking about.

When they hit the garden, Cyrus stopped his talking and let his mouth bob for a few moments looking up into the fading sky. The sun had just set leaving the sky a dusty blue, with a few stars shining from the expanse and only being covered by a few errant clouds. Clark looked down at Cyrus, and didn't miss the wonder in his eyes. “You haven't been outside before have you? Atleast not properly…” He doubted Cyrus saw the sky when he was in Cadmus and the only real time he had been outside since then was when Bruce was carrying him to the Batwing and even then he was covered in blankets. No. This was the first time he had ever seen the night sky and Clark felt a melancholy smile pull at his lips. “In the morning, i'll bring you outside again. If you're like me, you'll love the morning sun.” Cyrus gave a roll of the head which looked like a nod.

He didn't know what compelled him to start floating, maybe it was the way Cyrus’s eyes glittered with the stars or that he wanted to see his baby smiling unabashedly and he had a feeling this would do it.

Wayne manor was isolated on all sides, with the nearest other house being ten miles away. Clark let himself drift further and further up until he saw Cyrus twist and turn to see what was happening. He was rewarded with a loud squeal as they reached the tree line, and Clark laughed. “You liked being high up don't you Cy? Well, how about this...” He increased his speed, and lay down horizontally, letting Cyrus splay himself across Clark's chest. They sped through the sky making lazy loops around the manor. After a while, Clark brought his arms up with Cyrus held firmly in his grip; the wind rippled across his onesie and his hair was ruffled into fine wisps by the air.

Clark couldn't help but laugh with Cyrus as they flew, and even when his giggles became quiet hums and his eyes began to drift close, Clark still flew through the night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! another chapter done! If you guys couldn't tell the bit I love writing the most is the dialogue. Also awkward Bruce. That is also fun. :P


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayoooo, another chapter. Just so things make a bit of sense in this chapter, this whole story takes place in a universe where Bruce adopted the boys, but they never became Robin's. So Dick is a cop, Jason is a rebel maverick and Tim is in a fancy boarding school. (he still hangs out with Young Justice, he just isn't Robin.) I just wanted to clear that up incase a few of you got confused. Anyway, please enjoy.

After nearly hitting the manors chimney, Clark decided to turn in. He landed on the balcony of his room and opened it, surprised that it was already open. He eased his way in and saw that the bed was already turned down and a plate of cookies sat atop the sheets. He had to ignore them for now for fear of awakening the now sleeping baby in his arms, knowing his luck biting into one would wake Cyrus and he wouldn’t go back to sleep. 

He left the bedroom and went to Cyrus’s own. When he opened it he saw the double bed that Cyrus slept in the day before was pushed to the side of the room, making space for the opulent crib now in its place. Hanging over the top of the crib was a vast canopy, seemingly just as padded as the cribs bedding. 

Clark couldn't help but smirk at it. He approached the crib and gently eased Cyrus down into it, though he had to suppress a giggle as he watched Cyrus bob in the air just above the crib bedding. 

As he stepped back he watched Cyrus drift higher and higher until he hit the top of the canopy. Clark pressed his lips at this but saw that Cyrus was content to defy gravity, rolling happily along the fabric. 

He could hear Bruce returning home deep beneath him, the echos of the cave easy for him to pick up. He considered going down to see him but decided that Bruce was probably exhausted, and Clark himself wasn't faring any better. He went to his own room, eating the plate of cookies as he got ready for bed.

When his head hit the pillow he heard Bruce's boots thumping on the stairs out of the batcave. The quiet activity of Bruce helped him get to sleep, the sounds of his footsteps, breathing and heart beat. Despite conditioning himself to it, Clark found it easier to fall asleep to than the noise of Metropolis. 

He didn't know exactly when he fell asleep, he only remembered hearing Bruce pottering around downstairs, and then the next thing he knew he was being awoken to the sound of rapid breathing and a pounding heart. 

Easing himself up from his bed, he listened intently to what he was actually hearing and realised belatedly that it was coming from Bruce's room. After a moment, Clark heard rustling sheets and then the door being opened. He stilled as he heard retreating footsteps and then a light switch being turned on. 

From the sounds of it Bruce in the kitchen and Clark gingerly rose from his bed. He made his own way downstairs and when he got to the kitchen he was greeted by the sight of Bruce slumped over the kitchen counter with a mug of milk in his hands. His head was facing the door and he clocked Clark as he walked in. 

Clark looked around the barely lit room. Apparently the light Bruce turned on was a night light in one of the wall sockets. It bathed the room in a thimble sized cone of light, though he doubted Bruce minded. Clark watched him from the door. Bruce’s eyes seemed to glint in the minimal light and his breath sill came out shaky and rapid. Clark bit his lip.“Do you need a hug?” 

Bruce’s face contorted into a frown almost immediately. “What?”

Clark shrugged in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner but probably looked more like the squirmings of a nervous teenager. “You just look like you need a hug is all…” He shook his head. “Never mind, forget I said-”

“No.” Bruce lifted himself up slowly, his hair mussed from where it was pressed against the counter. “No. I think-” He shook his head, and held out his arms to Clark.

After getting the message, Clark stepped forward, his own arms wrapping around Bruce’s waist. 

He didn't know what he expected, but what was definitely something of a surprise was how gentle Bruce was. He knew he was tired and probably a bit out of it, but the way his arms rested over his shoulders, wrapping around his neck was oddly intimate. Clark could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks, his stomach fluttering as he rubbed soothing circles into Bruce's back. “Wanna talk about it?” He asked quietly. Bruce shook his head. “Okay…” 

After a minute, Bruce's grib began to loosen and Clark stepped away, using his hands to keep Bruce stable. He seemed wobbly on the stool and the last thing Clark wanted was Bruce collapsing on the floor. 

“I had a nightmare.” Bruce said, his voice rough with sleep, or lack thereof. He eyed Clark and blinked slowly. “I have them sometimes. Sorry if I woke you.” 

Clark’s mouth fell open as his eyes grew wide with concern. “Are you okay?”

Bruce shook his head, but then gave a minor shrug. “I'm used to it.”

“That doesn't make it okay though.” Clark sat down on the stool opposite Bruce, watching him drink his milk in solemn sips. “How long have you had them?” 

Bruce’s stare went pensive as he looked off into the far corner of the room before eventually breathing in deep. “A long time.” He pushed the mug to Clark. “Have a sip.” 

Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth Clark did so. He gave it a cautious sniff, and hummed in appreciation. “Smells good. What's in it?”

“Milk with vanilla and cinnamon.” Bruce leant on the counter with his arm. “My mother used to make it that way.” He took the mug back from Clark. “It calms me down.” 

Clark gave a slow nod. “Anything I can do to help?” 

Despite his obvious mood, Bruce still smiled. “Just talk.” 

So Clark talked.

It was about anything and everything he could think off. He spoke about his day at work, about his articles, about his own writing. He mentioned to Bruce how he had a conversation with Ma about Cyrus and how Kara and Kon were excited to meet him and throughout it all Bruce just sat and listened, never once taking his eyes off of Clark. 

His skin felt prickly at the unrelenting attention, but in a way cherished it. Bruce had a habit of struggling with eye contact for extended periods of time, keeping to clipped sentences and breaks in conversation. The fact he was looking at Clark so continuously, with only minor stints of him looking away was a wonder.

Despite it being one sided, Clark still found himself getting wrapped up in his storytelling and enjoying the way Bruce's face would crack into a smile every so often. It was barely there, more of lip twitch then a bonafide smile, but it still made Clark’s heart swell. 

After Bruce began yawning with some semblance of frequency Clark started to wind down his talking before stopping completely. He glanced at the clock and saw it was 5am. He tried not to wince at that revelation but Bruce must have caught it. “Sorry. I should have stopped you but-” Bruce sighed. “I'll make it up to you.”

Clark shrugged. “Bruce it's fine. So i'll be a little tired tomorrow- Well today… I don't care. Do you feel better?” 

And Bruce smiled an earnest smile, giving a small nod, his eyes pale and glassy. He got up from the table and paused by Clark.“I'm going to go back to bed. I- thank you Clark.”

“Any time Bruce.”

He too went back upstairs and burrowed into his covers. Though it only felt like a few moments he did feel less tired when he awoke. When he made his way to the kitchen Alfred walked in soon after Clark, pausing by the door. “Mister Clark, I hope you'll forgive me. I was busy with the washing and didn't have time to prepare breakfast. I can fix you up something if you would like?” 

Clark shook his head. “Naw, i'm okay. I'll just have cereal if you have any.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “I can assure you whilst master Dick frequents this household we shall have cereal.” He stepped forward and opened one of the cupboards. “Help yourself. I shall prepare master Cyrus some porridge.” 

Clark crouched down and perused the selection of cereal. It was like being in a supermarket and he felt a giddy sense of childhood wonder overcome him. When he was a child his mother never let him buy any of the expensive sugary cereals, saying they were bad for him. In his adulthood it never really crossed his mind to buy anything other than what his mother raised him on. Now that he was confronted with all the sugary splendors, he grabbed 3 boxes and moved to the counter. 

He poured himself some and ate the first bowl quickly. He was onto his second by the time Bruce walked in with Cyrus in his arms. “Morning Bruce.”

“Good morning Clark."

“Need help feeding Cy?.” He finished up the bite he was on and reached out for him. Unlike yesterday, there was little wiggling and Clark was able to maneuver him easily onto his lap. “That’s weird…”

Bruce pursed his lips. “His body is running low on hormones. I called Ray and he said they're nearly ready. We can inject him later today.” 

“Will he be okay until then?” 

Bruce sat down next to him, bringing a hand out to feel Cyrus’s face. “According to the files, yes. I however think we should inject him as soon as possible. When you're finished at work we can head over to the JLH.” Bruce took the bowl of porridge from Alfred once he was done and lifted a spoon full to Cyrus, who dropped his mouth slightly and barely ate what was on the spoon. “I think i'll put him back to bed once he's had his breakfast.” Whilst his eyes darted from Cyrus to Clark, he spoke. “Alfred mentioned something about you coming to help feed him at lunchtime.” 

Clark nodded. “Well he told me he gets a little feisty when hungry.”

Bruce hummed in agreement. “He was a bit hard to handle yesterday. I feel like he's going to be a bit tamer today though.” As if to illustrate his point, Bruce leant forward and prodded Cyrus on the belly, eliciting nothing more than a quiet grumble. Clark didn't miss the look of concern crossing Bruce's face.

“Hey, come on now. He’s fine. A bit sleepy, but fine. Just give him a bit more porridge and then take him back to bed. He's gonna have a lazy day.”

Bruce cracked a smile at that. “He's a baby Clark, their days are usually lazy.”

“Well then it’s gonna be especially lazy.”

Bruce made no further comment and tried to get a few more bites into a disinterested Cyrus who was more content to just lay against Clark than to eat any of the food. Despite Clark's words, Bruce couldn't help the crease in his brow. “I think he's done...” Bruce reached for him and Cyrus came easily with little fuss. “Have fun at work.” 

He left quickly and Clark couldn't blame him. Between his lack of enthusiasm in the food and his general disinterest with what was going on around him, it was clear something wasn’t right. He could even hear that Cyrus’s heart beat was slower, but he didn't mention it for fear of concerning Bruce further. He was going to be fine. If he kept believing that, it would make it true.

Work came and went at a snail's pace. With each word he typed he found himself listening in to Cyrus, and hearing his slow and steady heart pounding. Bruce by contrast seemed to be in a perpetual state of anxiety, beating rapidly with little respite. He wanted to text him, just to say it was going to be fine, but a part of him felt like that would be crossing a boundary he couldn't bring himself to do just yet. 

But then he remembered the night before and the way Bruce just seemed to melt against him and before he knew he had his phone out. 

It was nothing major, just a quick- ‘are you okay?’- but Bruce replied all the same.

‘He’s not floating and his breaths are shallow.’

Clark pursed his lips at his phone and checked the time on his computer. It was barely 1o’clock. He knew Lois and Perry would kill him, but he realised what he had to do. ‘Call the Planet. Say there is something going on in Gotham and you want a reporter.’

He didn't get a response through Bruce, but he did get one through Lois. “Smallville.” She said curtly. “Bruce Wayne is holding a private fundraiser and wants someone to report on it. It's in a few days but he wants you to head over there today to get acquainted. I told him you were busy and you don't like short notice jobs and-”

“And he told you he doesn't care.”

She smiled mirthlessly. “Bingo. So you're doing it. Sorry.” 

Clark tried to give his best displeased sigh. “It's fine. I better head off then if that's okay.” He got up from his desk, turning off his PC and grabbing his coat. “I'll see you in a few days Lois.” 

She gave a nod. “Make sure it's worth it.”

When he was sure he was alone and away from prying eyes he flew back to Gotham. He landed at the manor gate and they opened up for him with little preamble. He made his way to the front entrance where Alfred waited by the ajar doors. “He is in the living room.” He said calmly as he opened it wider for Clark to pass through. Clark gave a nod, though he didn't really need to be told that, he could hear Bruce's heartbeat easily and he approached it with mild caution. 

He was sitting on the couch, his elbows on his knees and face cupped in his hands. He stared at the floor and bit his lip, and only glanced at Clark as he walked in. “He's shaking.” He said quietly. Clark nodded, and sat down next to him. 

“Have you called Ray?”

Bruce nodded. “He said they're good to go. He even mixed them into the correct dosages.”

Clark brought his hand to rub Bruce's back and the effect was almost instantaneous; his arms dropped and the muscles of his shoulders seemed to loosen. “If you want, I can go and get them and you can stay here with Cy.”

“That would be great…” Bruce exhaled loudly as he let himself fall back into the couch, Clark kept his hand on the small of his back, hoping its presence was enough of a comfort. “I-” He didn't finish and got up. “I'll bring him down to the cave, once you've gotten the hormones go there. Also Alfred made a cake for Ray, it's in the kitchen cooling.” Clark didn't need more and once he had the cake he was off.

The League HQ was almost empty aside from J’onn, Ray and now himself. Clark said a quick hello to the martian as he walked by the wall of monitors. It was a dull task but J’onn never once complained. He didn’t linger long though, aware of why he was here.

Ray’s lab was by no means large, but that didn’t stop him from cramming every piece of technology he could into it. Clark had to step and even drift himself over certain machines to get to where the lab’s owner sat. Ray himself was busy typing away as he maneuvered his way towards him and perked up when he saw Clark and what he was baring. “Is that walnut cake I spy?” 

“Well that's not what most people call me but if you want to make that my new nickname Ray by all means-”

“Haha.” He smirked. “I mean the cake. It’s walnut. My favorite.” He shook his head. “Only Bruce would take surveillance of the team to the extent of favourite cakes.” 

Clark shrugged. “It's a habit of his I suppose.” He held out the cake for him, which Ray took happily, lifting off an edge of the clingfilm and breathing in deep.

“Jesus it even smells like-” Ray gave a breathy laugh. “Tell him I said thanks.” He put the cake down and grabbed a small package. “Here are the hormones by the way. I only made 10 but that should last you guys for a while at least. How is he by the way?”

“You mean Bruce or Cyrus?”

He shrugged. “Both? When Bruce called me this morning he sounded a touch stressed. Which is never a good sign. It’s like hell freezing over when Batman is stressed.” 

Clark bit his lip. “Cyrus will be fine. He just needs his injection and then he'll go back to normal, and Bruce will be fine when Cyrus is fine.”

Ray nodded, though it seemed to be more of an absent gesture. “You better head back then. Don't wanna keep mama bats waiting.”

“I don't know how Bruce would feel about you calling him that... I mean, he’s been plotting Hal and Ollie’s downfall ever since the Christmas party incident.” 

Ray looked genuinely concerned before he fiddled with the cake, lifting up a large chuck to Clark. “I will give you this if you promise to never tell him I called him that.”

Clark pretended to contemplate for a moment before nodding. “Deal.” He grabbed the slice and bit into it, savouring the sweetness of the cake with the bitterness of the walnuts. “Thanks Ray. See you later.”

He didn't waste any time heading back to the cave. He already knew Bruce would be frantic and he didn't want to exasperate matters. Even before he hit the grounds he could hear Bruce’s pacing echoing around the cave walls. When he entered the pacing stopped and Clark made his way to the console. Cyrus lay in a small crib and Clark couldn't help but wince. 

He was wrapped in blankets and hardly moved within the confines of them. Clark tried not to let the slow heart beat bother him. "How you feeling?" He said turning to Bruce.

"Fine." He approached Clark in a couple of steps. "Did you bring the hormones?"

Clark nodded and held them out to him, Bruce snatched them up quickly, opening the container and grabbing one of the syringes. He observed it closely before taking one of the bottles. He pierced the foil and pulled up the liquid with the syringe. Once full, he removed it and and pushed out the air. He worked so quickly Clark was afraid if he blinked he’d miss it. Bruce barely looked at him as he held up the syringe for Clark to grab. After that he reached for Cyrus and stripped him of his cocoon of blankets, lifting him up gently and cradling him in his arms. He moved to his chair and lay Cyrus across his lap, unclipping his onesie and pulling out his leg. "I need to inject it into the anterolateral area of his vastus lateralis muscle. Pass me the syringe." He held up his hand and Clark passed it over quickly. Bruce looked it over again before slowly veering it towards Cyrus. 

He received a low cry as he brought it into his skin, but aside from that Cyrus lay and allowed himself to be handled. Bruce pushed the liquid in and then quickly removed the needle. Rubbing gentle circles into the area. He hummed quietly as Cyrus seemed to mumble to himself. 

Clark wished he could understand baby, though he doubted Cyrus would be saying much other than, ‘that sucked.’ He approached Bruce and crouched by his legs and brought his hand up to hold Cyrus’s little fingers. "You were so brave sunshine... I'm so proud of you..." He murmured quietly to Cyrus as Bruce hummed. He wondered if Cyrus knew what he was saying as well or if he just heard the tone and Clark could be saying a recipe for gazpacho in a soothing tone and illicit the same response. 

"I don't think we were meant to wait this late to inject him. In the notes he would apparently cry after the injection but he's so out I don't think he even felt it…” 

Clark prodded him in the belly and watched how his eyes seemed to squint in his direction before he gurgled dismissively, waving one of his pudgy arms at Clark before letting it flop back down to his side. “I gotta admit he is acting like a drunk hobo at the moment… But he should be back to his usually sunny self soon enough. Maybe I should ask Alfred to bring him down some-”

“On the side.” Clark frowned before turning his face to the console, on top was a small pot with a spoon beside him. “I thought he would like a little treat after this.” 

Clark nodded and grabbed it, turning back around. He peeled the foil and almost instantly Cyrus's eyes drifted open as he started babbling lazily. He moved his arms slowly, wiggling his fingers and reaching for Clark. “Well that perked him up.” Clark brought the spoon down and scraped it along the top of the chocolate layer before holding it up from Cyrus to inspect. He watched as his little nose fluttered and his eyes went wide. Clark pressed the spoon in and watched as Cyrus licked at the mousse before smiling lazily and eating the rest of the spoonful. 

They made their way through the rest of the pot slowly, with Bruce holding him and petting his head in short strokes. By the time they finished it Cyrus was wide awake and giggling excitedly, wiggling around enough that Bruce had to hand him over to Clark. “Heeey, my little sunshine is back! How you feeling?” Clark bounced him and listened as Cyrus gurgled contently, pausing and starting with the same frequency of words. “Great huh? That's good to hear…” Cyrus gave a particularly loud mumble and Clark nodded solemnly. “That is true, the economy has taken a turn for the worse...” 

He caught Bruce's eye and watched the way he smiled at them both, his eyes warm. He walked around the cave as Cyrus became more awake and active. “Bruce I think he's ready for lunch.” He called out, letting his voice travel through the cave. When he reached the console, Bruce was typing away furiously. 

He looked up to Clark and then nodded. “Alfred should be making something upstairs. I'm going to type up-” 

The cave became alive with the sound of car engines and Clark turned to the the source of it, Cyrus however didn't seem to like the noise and mumbled unhappily, a cry coming slowly out of his lips. “Shhh, Cyrus… It's okay.”

The car came to a stop near the edge of the cave and the door swung wide open. “Dickie said you have a new baby.” Jason stepped out of the car and half jogged to the monitor. “I told him he was full of shit, but I saw Alfred buying baby clothes at the store today and I had to come see for myself.”

“His name is Cyrus.” Bruce's eyes quickly flicked to the Cyrus and his wobbling lip. “And you've upset him.” 

Jason swung his head to the whimpering baby in Clark's arms and blew a raspberry. “Not my fault all your cars are shitty. Seriously, are you aware you can get ones that don't sound like a meat grinder?”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “You don't have to steal them Jason.”

“Hey, I don't steal. I borrow.” He walked over to the baby and stared down at him, Clark tried not to move Cyrus away, but the scent of cigarettes and liquor emanating off Jason made that tricky. “Heh.” Jason brought a finger up to prod him in the belly, Cyrus squinted at him but otherwise made no complaints. “Okay… He is pretty cute. So which alley did you find him in?” 

Bruce heaved a sigh. “I didn't find him in an alley. He is Clark's clone. Did Dick not tell you this?” 

Jason gave a bark of a laugh which made Cyrus squirm in Clark's arms. “You kidding? Dickie just mentioned it in passing when I bumped into him. Wasn't really time to say ‘oh yeah by the way the baby’s a clone of big blue.’” He shrugged a shoulder. “Also he may have been arrestin’ me when he mentioned it.”

“Why were you being arrested?” Bruce asked, his voice suspiciously level. 

Jason poked Cyrus again in the belly before walking towards Bruce. “I may or may not have been caught hiring a hooker.” Jason held both of his hands up. “It was for a friend though, I don't need to pay for that shit.”

Bruce frowned. “Jason…” 

“Hey, if you don't want me doing stupid shit with money don't give me money.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I don’t think that’s as important as what’s going on here.” He turned to Clark, his lip curved up on one side. “ So big blue. You and Bruce, ey?”

Clark frowned and looked between Jason and Bruce, his eyebrows pleated together. He tried to ignore the burn in his cheeks. “What-”

Bruce got up quickly and approached Jason. “Go upstairs and see if Alfred needs help with lunch.” His voice was deep, Clark only ever heard in when Bruce was in the cowl. “Now.” The last word left little room for discussion and Jason's eyebrows shot up as he looked between Clark and Bruce, giving a small frown whilst nodding.

“Sure… I didn't mean-” He sighed. “Good seeing you Clark. Bruce. Baby blue.” He jogged across the cave and up the stairs, Clark listened to hear if he slipped at any point and looked to Bruce when he was safely upstairs. 

“So Jason seems well.” He offered as he watched the concerned look on Bruce's face grow. 

Bruce shook his head in disdain. “Every time I see him he has a new addition to his criminal record.” He rubbed his face with his hand, the other drumming on his armrest. “At least he's home.” He got up. “For now.” 

He approached Clark and eased Cyrus into his arms, almost instantly he perked up and laughed excitedly. “Let's get you some food…” He said quietly to Cyrus, who seemed to understand the word food and gave a loud ‘ug!’ in response. 

Jason wasn't there when they reached the kitchen, much to Bruce's dismay. Alfred mentioned how he came in for a chat but then said he was meeting someone. Bruce didn't say much to this news, walking over to Alfred and picking up the small bowl of slurry for Cyrus. 

They fed him in silence. Even Clark felt his chewing was too loud, and Cyrus perhaps to try and cheer Bruce up clapped his hands and in between bites and attempted to talk to Bruce with a series of ‘ba’s’ and ‘ug’s’. Bruce smiled at the sentiment. “Alfred did you make desert?”

“Yes master Bruce, here is a bowl for master Cyrus. Would you like some?”

Bruce shook his head, and looked to Clark. “Did you want some?” He reached for the bowl of custard Alfred held up for him, and began giving small spoonfuls to Cyrus. “It's apple pie and custard if that changes anything.”

Clark nodded solemnly. “That it does. I would love a bowl.”

He ate his portion slowly, though that was a challenge. The favour was so intense, the sweet apples practically bursting on his tongue and the smooth custard coated his palette. By the time he was finished Cyrus was too and he got up from his seat, pulling Cyrus closer to him. “Oh Bruce, that reminds me. Could you help me pack a few things for Cyrus? I don't know what I should bring with him to Ma’s”

Bruce frowned in confusion before his eyes widened and he nodded. “Of course. Alfred can pack you an overnight bag. How long are you planning to stay there for?”

“Probably tonight and i'll spend the tomorrow there. You won me a few days off so I intend to use them. Speaking of, how are we going to-”

“Alfred and me have already organised it all. It's a get together with a few of my richer associates. We will have drinks for a few hours, feeling good about ourselves for helping the Gotham Orphanage. You come in, talk to a few of us, write up the article. Then you're done.” 

Clark nodded. “Sounds easy. When are you planning that?”

“In a few days.” He stood up. “If you want you can head out now-”

“Nah… I kinda like the idea of spending the day here. Have you taken him out to the park yet?” He looked down at Cyrus and smiled. “I bet you'd love the park... Sunny skys and warm grass. You should come too Bruce.”

Bruce gave a forlorn smile. “I would love to, but I don't think Bruce Wayne can be seen with a reporter and an unexplained baby. Also with Cadmus still looking for Cyrus, we can't risk him being seen in public.”

“Right. I kinda forgot we kidnapped him…” 

Bruce looked out of the window. “We can however go into the garden. I’m sure it’s just as nice as the park.” 

Perking up at this Clark beamed brightly. “That sounds good! Oh! And I could get us ice cream from this place in Metropolis, it's a little pricey but it's worth it. You get Cyrus ready and i'll go get some.”

Bruce gave a small smile. “Deal.”

He flew back to Metropolis and due to it being the middle of the day it wasn't that busy and Clark walked straight from the door to the counter. 

Which was when he realized he had no idea what to get Bruce. 

He felt a strange sense of exasperation at that, what with Bruce knowing all of his favourite foods how he liked them. He himself had no idea what to get Bruce. He didn't call him though, wanting to surprise him by getting it right just like he knew Bruce would. He quickly ordered his and Cyrus's, which was easy. Chocolate for Cyrus and bubblegum for himself. 

The lady behind the counter gave him a look as he continued to ponder over the selection of gelato. He drummed his fingers against the glass and was glad that the shop was empty at the moment. He spotted the ice cream dusted with specks of umber and perked up. "What's that? " He asked for the fifth time. 

The lady behind the counter sighed. “Vanilla with cinnamon."

Clark stood up straight. "A bowl of that please! " 

He left soon after paying, trying not to crack open his container of ice cream on his way back, which was easier said than done. He hoped Bruce would like what he got. He didn't know how he'd react if Bruce didn’t.

The garden was empty when he landed but the doors to the kitchen were open so he walked over the veranda and poked his head in the door. Alfred stopped peeling some potatoes and turned to Clark. "Ah mister Clark, you've returned. I shall collect master Bruce." 

Clark nodded and sat down on one of the chairs outside, pulling out the containers ice cream from the small bag. Bruce walked out with Cyrus and Clark had to suppress his laughter. "Jesus Bruce..."

"What?" Bruce looked down at Cyrus.

In his arms Cyrus was wrapped within 4 layers of coats from what Clark could see and that wasn't including the hat, scarf and gloves. He looked like a marshmallow covered in all of them. 

His arms stuck out at right angles due to all the fabric. He giggled contently all the same, even attempting to clap his hands at the sight of the ice cream, but not quite managing to get them to touch. Bruce sat down opposite Clark. “He's about to have ice cream Clark. I didn't want him getting cold."

Clark nodded slowly, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Well I doubt that's gonna happen." 

Bruce blushed a pale pink, and Clark couldn't help his own burning in response. Bruce had a petulant air about him as he sat down but Clark could see the cracks in his performance with the slight upturn in his lips. Clark slid over the bowls of ice cream and watched intently for his response. "I got Cyrus chocolate, and yours is-" He gulped. "Cinnamon? " He couldn’t help the incline in his voice as he spoke. 

Bruce face barely changed as he reached for Cyrus’s pot as well as his. As he brought it closer he saw Cyrus wriggle and attempt to move closer to this new food he hadn't come across before. "I'll give Cyrus his and then I'll have mine. Thank you Clark." Clark felt his heart flutter as Bruce looked up at him through his eyelashes, a soft smile on his face.

Clark wanted to do somersaults but managed to contain himself and only smiled back. 

Perhaps it was due to having recently eaten but Cyrus was easy for Bruce to handle and he fed him with relative ease. He did give a particularly violent trash after having his first bite, smacking his lips and making a strange mixture of a cry and a squeal. Bruce kept his hold however and fed him the rest of his ball. Clark devoured his own portion quickly, looking at Bruce’s melting portion but saying nothing.

Once finished Bruce passed Cyrus over and satiated by the treats he had been given today sat easily on Clark, wiggling happily as he sat and looking out over the garden. A pigeon landed on the lawn and Cyrus pointed a finger at it and gave a loud gurgle. 

Clark kept himself looking out into the lawn as Bruce started his ice cream. He at first kept looking to see Bruce’s reaction but quickly realised that that was too much for him to handle. 

Bruce sucking icecream off the spoon whilst humming in enjoyment was something that Clark couldn’t spend too much time looking at for fear of something happening to his own body that he didn’t want to happen with his son on his lap. Thankfully Cyrus’s presence was like a bucket of ice water, and Clark felt he could risk a few chance glances towards Bruce without causing anything too noticeable. 

He too looked out into the garden, watching the wind rippling over the beds of flowers and the stretch of trees wrapping around the secluded patch of grass they were sitting in. Clark was sure Bruce's garden was larger than his apartment. Actually, his entire building was probably not as big as his garden. The part he could see wasn't even the entire grounds, he was sure he could walk around the manor for hours and could still happen upon parts he’d never seen before.

In between bites as he savoured the flavours, his eyes took on a thoughtful quality Clark couldn’t keep away from. In the light, they looked silver rather than their usual slate colour. The usual worry lines that seemed to be a constant mainstay of his face were gone for the moment, and Clark could have sworn he’d never seen Bruce this peaceful. 

When he finished his bowl he pushed it away from him and sat back with a small sigh. “That was lovely Clark. Thank you.”

Clark gave a nonchalant shrug. “It's no big deal. It was the least I could do to say thanks for you putting up with me these past few days.” Clark bit his lip. “I still don't know what i'm gonna do but i'm glad i'm welcome here for now.”

Bruce tented his hands in front of him. “You can stay here as long as you like, the manor could use more people in it. With Dick in Bludhaven, Jason barely home, and Tim at school, the manor gets quiet…”

“You sound like you miss them…” 

A sigh. “You have no idea…” Bruce stared at the table, bringing the bowl back to his hands and fiddling with the spoon. 

“You ever thought about adopting more? I bet there are a bunch of kids in Gotham looking for a dad like you.”

Bruce gave a humourless laugh. “You mean rich and emotionally distant?”

Clark huffed. “Bruce you are not emotionally distant.” He lifted Cyrus up to the table and sat him on the wooden surface. “The way you act around Cyrus proves that.”

Bruce seemed to squirm in his seat, only glancing up at Cyrus briefly. “With babies it's different. They don't, I don’t know-” He fell back in his seat. “They don't judge. With adults I just- I can't bring myself to act how I want to. I either go Brucie or Batman. The in between is hard for me.”

Clark looked thoughtful, his expression turning into an easy smile. “Well with me you seem to be fine.”

He blushed. “Well with you…” and for a brief moment, Bruce seemed to forget himself, his lips opening to finish his sentence, only for his brain to quickly catch on and snap his mouth shut. He averted his stare, his eyes going curiously blank. “I just remembered I have to go to the office today.” He got up and made a move to head inside. “Thank you for the ice cream Clark… Alfred's packed you an overnight bag. Have fun.” He rushed to the door, half stumbling on his way.

“Bruce, hey, wait…” Clark practicaly jumped after him, his eyes wide with concern. “What were you gonna say?”

Bruce's lips pressed themselves into a thin line as he stared at the space between Clark and the table. “We're good friends." He said evenly. "That's what I was going to say.” He gave a quiet sigh, and tried to turn those downcast features into a smile. “I have to go to work. Tell Martha I said hi.”

Clark didn't try to stop him when he retreated back into the house. He did however, frown into the space Bruce once occupied, his brain trying in vain to see what he had done wrong.

He stood for a moment holding Cyrus close to him and bobbing him up and down. He gave a few unhappy gurgles and Clark couldn't help but agree with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hoped you guys enjoyed the chapter! Please comment and kudos if you did. I don't think you guys realize how much I appreciate your comments. I love hearing what you guys have to say. You are all awesome and I thank you for reading my stupid little story. Until next time! :D
> 
> *EDIT* I changed the ending of this chapter quiet a bit (as well as some other bits) as the old ending never sat right with me, this one I hope gets across what I was going for a lot better.


	4. Chapter 4

Clark lingered for perhaps longer than he should of on the veranda. His stomach seemed to have dropped and he couldn’t bring himself to walk into the manor and see Bruce. He looked so sad and Clark knew it was because of something he said. He wanted to fix it, but he didn’t know ‘what’ he needed to fix.

He didn’t move until he heard a car leaving the manor. Once he was sure Bruce was out of the way he walked into the kitchen were Alfred still stood, though instead of peeling potatoes, he was chopping carrots. “Mister Clark. Are you going to be leaving us?” He asked quickly as soon as Clark entered 

Clark fidgeted awkwardly in place. “Yeah, I think I am… I just- Well...” He swallowed the lump in his throat, which the Englishman’s stare seemed to create. “Bruce said you packed a bag?”

Alfred gave a small nod. “Yes. It’s in your room on your bed. I have packed a few of master Bruce’s old shirts as well as some clothes for master Cyrus.” Alfred halted his chopping, and his grip on the knife tightened. “I trust you will be returning.”

Clark’s eyebrows shot up before immediately descending. “Of course.” He said perhaps a tad too defensively.

And as if he never said anything Alfred went back to chopping, calmly taking another carrot and repeating the process. Clark left quickly, though he firmly told himself it wasn't from fear of what Alfred could do more from what he could say. 

If there was one person who knew Bruce better than anyone on the planet it was Alfred. Meaning if Clark could see something was wrong with Bruce, it must have been like claxons to Alfred. 

He was suddenly glad for the presence of Cyrus in his arms. Even if he couldn't talk back, it didn't matter. Just that he was listening and watching him with such intelligence that Clark had to wonder if he ‘could’ understand what he was saying was enough.

True enough when he got to his room there was a large duffle bag on the bed, with a list on top stating what was in the bag. Clark had to laugh at that. If his mother had packed the bag she would have done it and Clark would have known everything that he would need would be inside. Still, he was happy to give his mind something to focus on rather than the vacant look on Bruce's face when he left. 

In very neat handwriting, 3 shirt, 2 pairs of pants, 2 pairs of underwear, was written across the paper. 

Clark couldn't put his finger on what was bothering so much. He knew it had to do with Bruce, he knew it had to do with his sudden exit and the sheer impassive nature of his expression. Clark replayed their conversation in his head over and over and at no point could he detect a time where he said anything to upset Bruce. 

4 onesies, 6 diapers, 1 coat, some mittens, a scarf, and a hat.

He looked down at Cyrus’s already cloth covered body and decided to bring his sons cloth to body ratio back to normal. He opened the coat and took off the hat and scarf, and Clark forgot how small Cyrus actually was with all the clothing covering him up. Once free Cyrus seemed to express his joy by clapping and wiggling his arms happily. “It must be nice to be able to move again Cy…” He poked his belly and elicited a high giggle. “I can't wait for you to meet ma… She’s gonna love you.”

Cyrus gave a short nod before lolling his head to the side and gazing at the door. Clark threw the bag over his shoulder and opened the doors onto the balcony. He'd be flying to Smallville and he wondered how Cyrus would deal with going at that speed for that long. 

He floated up into the air gently to let Cyrus become acclimatised. He tried to wiggle out of Clark’s grip but being 10 times his size it wasn’t too hard for Clark to hold him steady. Increasing his speed slowly, Clark headed towards Smallville. Despite the wiggling baby, duffle bag and the fact he had to fly quite high in order to avoid interfering with air traffic, he managed to make good time. When he landed on the farm Cyrus was a little quiet, keeping his eyes on the clouds above. 

Kon and Kara was beside him in an instant, and if that didn't just ignite Cyrus with energy. He eyed them with something close to suspicion before clapping and giggling wildly, jutting his hands at them both. “Oh my God, Look Clark! He wants me to hold him!”

 

“Uh uh. He wants me to hold him. See?” Kon pointed at Cyrus’s pudgy fingers. “He pointing at me!”

Kara glared daggers at Kon before racing forward and easing Cyrus into her arms before Clark could even register what was happening. Cyrus didn't seem to mind however and gave a series of claps and giggles. Kon too came forward but when he did, Kara flew up into the air. Her voice was barely audible from how high she was, but Clark could detect the words. “Don’t try and chase me, I can fly faster and you know it!”

Clark gave a sigh, and yelled up. “Kara I want to introduce him to ma. Come back down here.”

“Yeah Kara!” Kon added rather uselessly. 

“Fine. But we get to play with him after!” 

“Sure Kara.” He smiled. “Sure.” 

After she landed they made their made their way across the vast expanse of fields to the Kent House. It was a homely place, dwarfed in size by the land surrounding it. The fields shifted in the wind, the stalks of dry grass shimmering like a pool of water. The sun was high in the sky, with no clouds in sight. The beams shone down and seemed to rejuvenate them, making their skin glow. An energy pulsed through Clark that made him want to take to the sky and drift in the expanse of blue. The wriggling baby in his arms seemed to share the sentiment and before Clark could register it, Cyrus was getting lighter. 

He stopped his walking and let go of his grasp ever so slightly. Kon and Kara turned to him, watching him with questioning stares. Clark lessened his grip even more and Cyrus seemed to drop, before bobbing ever so slightly in place. Clark held his hands near by but eventually Cyrus drifted higher. Clark burst into laughter. “He's flying guys. He's flying!” The pair seems to watch on in awe as Cyrus drifted higher, his arms outstretched before him into the blue. “Look at him, he's a natural!” 

But something seemed to draw Cyrus’s attention, and soon he dropped back into Clark’s waiting hands. He gave a small gurgle but seemed drawn in the direction of the house. Clark focused his senses and heard it too. Ma was singing.

Well humming more likely but the tune seemed to lure Cyrus as his stare stayed firmly on the small house in the distance. Clark lowered himself the short distance he had been from the ground bringing Cyrus up to hold him close. He half jogged to Kon and Kara who had paused to watch the two of them. Clark knew he was grinning like a madman, but he couldn't help it. When he looked down at Cyrus he was laughing happily right back at him.

He attempted to keep an even pace as he approached the house, but as he got closer his strides quickened until eventually he flew the rest of the way. When he opened the door an immediate sense of calmness washed over him. Ma was making pie, and the smell of it was drifting through the house. That combined with the smell of laundry made Clark’s muscles loosen as he realised he was home.

Ma came out after the door was closed, she was wiping her hands as she did so and her eyes lit up when she saw Clark, and a warm smile grew on her face when she saw the bundle in his arms. “I take it this is my grandson.” She said quietly as she approached Clark with soft steps. Clark wanted to say she wouldn't scare Cyrus but he didn't have to as Cyrus seemed to do it for him, smiling brightly as he reached for ma.

She held him easily, bobbing him until he sat easily in her arms. She cooed and poked his nose, making Cyrus go cross eyed trying to see where her finger was.

“He looks just like you Clark….” She said warmly as she gave a soft kiss to Cyrus’s forehead, right where his spit curl lay. 

Kon blew his lips. “I dunno ma, I would say that Clark is at least 5 feet taller.” 

Ma gave him a look before turning her attention downward. “Are you hungry? You must have had a long trip.” She reached for Cyrus and started walking towards the kitchen and like sheep the rest followed. “Clark honey can you get the pie out the oven?” 

With ease Clark moved through the cramped kitchen. Squeezing past the far too large dining table and the counter with the permanently open door which ma refused to get fixed. Kon and Kara sat at the table chatting amicably for the first time in a long time if Clark had to guess. The two seemed to be in a permanent state of bickering. Maybe it was their age, maybe it was the close proximity. All Clark knew was he was glad he lived in Metropolis.

“How about we give Cyrus a lil treat?” Clark turned with the pie in his hands. Steam radiated off them as he belatedly became aware of the fact he wasn't wearing gloves. He eyed the pot of pudding in his mother’s hands and the now wiggling baby in her arm. 

“I don't know ma. I think he's all treated out. He’s already had a bunch today.” 

Ma raised a thin eyebrow and put away the pudding without another word. Cyrus seemed to understand what had just taken place and if it were possible he glared at Clark. Clark himself didn't want to believe it so took the squinted eyes and frown he was receiving as Cyrus’s way of saying thank you for not making me an obese toddler. “You shouldn't give him so many treats. I'll get a pot of strained plumes-”

“Ma. He doesn't like strained plumes. Or any baby food for that matter.” 

Ma joined the narrow eyes brigade and the combination of the two made Clark shiver. “So what do you feed him?”

Kon and Kara stared intently at Clark, their own conversation forgotten. “I- We- We you know- We just blend up what we have and feed it to him. Bruce thinks he doesn't like bland food.” Clark straighten his posture and tried to remove the look of concern off his face. “We don't just feed him sweets if that's what you're assuming ma.” 

Ma’s frown dropped and she shrugged an arm. “Well Clark, I just want to make sure you're taking care of Cyrus correctly. Babies are tricky and it's easy for parents to fall into the trap of feeding them sweets to make me happy. You remember little Tommy from your English class? He's 560 pounds now and I bet it's from all that pie his mother gave him. You never turned out like that because I fed you proper.”

Clark bit his tongue from mentioning it was his superhuman nature that prevented him from being obese rather than his mother's cooking. He was certain if you put any human child on what he’d been fed he would have become immobile within the year. Even if his mother denied it, Clark at least knew why he stayed his weight seemingly permanently. Kon and Kara seemed to be blessed with the same eternal pit of hunger slash permanent beach body that he had and he didn't know how ma was gonna cope with another super appetite in the family. 3 was already a push with most meals having to be done in stages. Not like your average starter, main, dessert. More so, main part one and main part two. With a part 3 making an appearance if ma had been particularly menevolant with her chores list that day. 

Clark was already gearing up for the workload tomorrow. He could already predict Kon and Kara were going to get their excuses out early over dinner and leave Clark to deal with the farm on his own. He was used to it, but it still didn't mean he could suppress his glares when it happened. He had a hope that Cyrus’s presence would keep Kon and Kara on the farm. The chores went by so much quicker with all three of them working together. Plus, Clark enjoyed spending time with them. With the League, work, and Kon and Kara’s own activities it made spending time together tricky. So he was enjoying this time, even if by tomorrow he would be swearing never to see them again. 

But that was family, and Clark would always cherish it. 

“Clark are you just gonna stand there with the pie or can I eat it?” Kon was flopped over the table surface holding his hands up at Clark and the now cool pie in his hand. Ma tutted. 

“Not before dinner Kon. Clark put that on the window sill and then take Cyrus. I’ll make him a little something.” Clark did as he was told and grabbed the offered infant, who seemed to have forgiven Clark, giving him his patented grin. Clark was thankful for his seeming short term memory. He felt it would make his life easier. 

It pulled up the idea of his next injection. His stomach rolled at the thought of it. It had been bad enough, but according to Bruce they had to do it before he became a semi conscious lump. When he could feel it. When it would hurt him.

Ma with her ever present ‘mom’ sensors turned her head away from the task of pulling left over beans from the fridge. “Kara, Kon, go check on the chickens. I think I heard a wild dog.”

Kon slowly slumped upwards. “What? I didn't-”

Kara perhaps sharing ma’s senses shot up quickly. “Sure ma!” And with a swift elbow into Kon’s side they were out the door.

“How you doing? I never asked you that did I?” Ma shut the fridge door and went over to her blender, spooning off a portion of beans into it, before reaching for the seasonings. 

“I'm fine ma. I was just thinking about something I shouldn't have been.” 

Ma gave a look which Clark knew was concern. She masked it well, but Clark had years to understand the subtleties from the amount of tests he nearly failed on and the times he broke things around the house. He also knew it was just a look and not a cue to further questioning. He didn't want to worry ma with any of this. 

“Alright honey. Just know i'm here if you need me.” She turned on the blender and unlike other loud noises which made Cyrus gurgle unhappily, he smiled at the noise. Apparently already aware of what it meant for him.

Ma poured out the blended mixture into a small bowl and turned to Clark, ushering him to sit down as she did the same. “Are you still staying with Bruce?” 

Clark allowed himself a smile, despite his mother's tone. “Yeah. He's letting us stay for a while.” 

Ma gave another look, this one more overt in concern as well as unease. “Clark. Whilst I know that Bruce is a nice man. I just don't think you should let Cyrus around him.”

“Why?” His voice blunt.

Ma’s eyes widened by a fraction before she gave a sigh. “I didn't mean nothing bad by it. I just mean he's a bit, well, you know- cooky.” 

Clark pursed his lips. “He’s not crazy, ma.”

 

She raised her eyebrows. “Well he's certainly not sane either.” She gave a spoonful of food to Cyrus. “Man runs around in a bat suit, something has to be wrong with him.”

“Ma, I run around in a suit. Do you think i'm crazy?”

She made a noise in the back of her throat. “Of course not! But he, I don't know, he's- different?” She sat back. The pot of food in her hand forgotten. “I’m making a mess of things ain't I? Well, it's not just him, well it is him… What I mean is, what happens when his hospitality ends? Where are you going to be?”

 

Clark stared downward. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… If you stay there and have his butler take care of Cyrus, what's gonna happen when Bruce kicks you out? Will you know how to change his diapers? His clothes? Feed him? Burp him? Wake up at 2 am, 3am and 4am to put him back to sleep?” She put the pot down on the table. “Babies are a lot of work Clark, and having a butler makes things easier, and when he's gone you're gonna be stuffed.”

“Ma, me and ‘Bruce’ have been taking care of Cyrus, I mean sure Alfred helps out but we've been feeding him and putting him to sleep, and playing with him.” 

Without looking up she spoke. “How many days Clark?”

He faltered. “What?”

“How many days have you been doing that?” 

“About three days-”

“Day 3, huh? What about day 30? Day 300?” She rested her hands on her thighs. Even with the loose summer dress and the years of age on her body, Clark could still see the power in those muscles. In the ones on her hands, her arms. The farm work over the years being reluctant to make way for the apparent onset of old age. “I'm not trying to make you mad. I'm trying to help you realise that you need to make a decision. You said it yourself, Metropolis or here and it’s better to have that decision be ‘your’ choice and not Bruce’s.” 

Cyrus gave an unhappily gurgle and Clark turned him around resting his head on his chest. “Bruce wouldn't just kick us out, he ‘offered’ to let us stay with him.”

Ma gave him a level stare. “That is may be, but humility runs out at some point and you can't stay there until it does.” 

Clark’s mind went back to the conversation he had with Bruce. He’d offered him a place in his home as soon as he could, and Clark at the time didn’t even know what to make of it. He didn’t even make a decision then, simply staying where Bruce had put him. 

He began to wonder if that conversation had just been a polite suggestion rather than a firm offer. Bruce however offered again, just earlier today, and Clark knew he wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t serious about his proposal. Clark didn’t want to believe what his mother said and even with all the evidence to the contrary, the seeds of doubt his mother planted started to take effect. He heaved a heavy sigh. “I don’t know ma... I mean what can I do? I can't take care of him in Metropolis just yet-”

“Then he can stay here. It's better he's with family.” She leant forward and placed her hand on Clark. He stared at the sun spots on it. 

Even when the hand went away he didn’t move his stare, letting his eyes go fuzzy as he looked at the floor. He let ma move around him, barely looking up when she cut him a slice of pie. He knew he should be happy. Dessert before dinner never happened in this household, but he didn't feel like his stomach could take it. 

He got up and moved out of the room and let himself go on autopilot, which apparently meant going outside. It was bright. Too bright. 

Kara clocked him from across the farm and flew to him quickly. Kon stared over at them, even at this distance he could see the mild look of concern on his face. “You okay Clark? You seem a bit-” 

“I'm fine. I just need to-” He shook his head. “I'm gonna walk for a bit, take care of things here okay?” 

She nodded slowly, looking back over at Kon. “Well I can only speak for myself but yeah we'll take care of things, just you know, take your time.” She fiddled with her hands in a way that suggested her unease, though her face betrayed no signs of it. She gave an easy smile and made her way back to Kon, who had tried his best to look like he wasn't paying attention and gave an awkward half wave to Clark before letting his hand fall in stilted manner. Clark himself couldn't bring himself to acknowledge him further than an extended state. 

He walked away from the house and let the fields fill his vision, focusing his senses on anything other than the hustle behind him. Thankfully he was discovering how well Cyrus worked as a mental distraction, the weight of him and the warmth he offered not only distracted him but actually comforted him. He held him higher and let his head loll against his shoulder, he babbled absently as his fingers probed the fabric of Clark's shirt. 

They soon hit the towers of wheat that swayed with the gentle breeze blowing across the fields, bringing the scent of the distance wildflowers into Clark's mind. He started towards the woods, though they were only a glimmer of green in the distance he could make out the scent of musty wood and running water. 

The Kent farm was isolated in its location, with the nearest other farm a good 2 miles away and the centre of Smallville even further. Clark was certain if he wasn't superhuman he would have become it from the distance he was running to get to school everyday when he was younger. He was thankful for the distance however when his senses started to enhance and he could hear a dog barking all the way across the fields. When he was at the farm, it was almost like he was normal again, before he became Superman. 

He wondered what it was like for Cyrus, who was inheriting abilities whilst still trying to understand the world. In a way he assumed it was better as Cyrus would never know any different from what he was currently experiencing, but he couldn't help but fret over the hardships he went through happening to Cyrus regardless. 

He remembers the first time he saw the inside insides someone's chest, the first time he heard his father's heart beat from school. He remembers asking his friends if they heard singing whilst they were playing football not realising that it was his mother all the way back at the farm. He knew Cyrus would go through these events, and he wondered what he would say when he did. 

It brought him back to his mother's words. He was so focused on the now that he neglected the fact that the small baby in his arms was going to become a boy, and before long a man. It was a prospect that didn't seem even now to fully register in his mind. He struggled with the idea that the baby currently gurgling away contently whilst Clark slowly plodded along could grow up. It didn't seem possible at that moment. Time was funny like that. The past could seem so close but the future so far, and he knew before long day 300 would roll by and it would feel like a only had seconds had passed.

His mind went to Bruce, in a way it was bound to. Even with his mother's words and Bruce's own, he still felt like he was at a standstill. He wanted the choice to be easy, for him to just realise what to do and act upon it. He knew however that wasn't going to happen and even with the two painfully simple choices; stay with Bruce or leave, he couldn't even decided which one to ‘consider’, let alone choose. 

First things first he knew he needed to talk to Bruce. Despite his obvious aversion, he knew he needed to talk about everything and get it all out on the table.

After deciding his first step, a weight seemed to lift from his shoulders. Even if it was a pitiful first step to make he needed to do it. He stopped his walking, the glint of trees still a ways off. On the way back to the farm, his pace picked up and eventually he felt like he did when he’d landed on the farm, his melancholy a semi distant memory. Kon and Kara were nowhere to be seen when he re-entered the farm grounds. When he walked into the house and took off his shoes, Cyrus had quieted down and Clark thought he was asleep. He made his way up to his old room, which was still as small as ever.

When he was little the room felt huge, now however it felt like a glorified cupboard, with there being little room to move once you've stepped into the room. He lay Cyrus down onto the single bed and kissed him on the forehead. As he stepped back he bumped into his chest of drawers and the series of photo frames and trophies sitting atop it jingled. Cyrus however didn't stir and Clark breathed a quiet sigh of relief. 

A few of Kon’s possessions had made their way into his room. As he no longer lived there Kon inherited his room, and Kara the guest room. When Clark visited Kon slept on the couch letting Clark have his bed for the few days he was here. Clark liked to think it was due to how much Kon respected him, but he quickly found out it was because ma was always nicest to the person on the couch due to its lumpy cushions, and general creaking. Who ever slept on it got double dessert and their favourite breakfast. Kara even offered to let Clark sleep in her room, but Kon had the trump card in having Clark’s boyhood room to offer. Therefore Kara would be sour over dinner when Kon would get his second bowl of pie and she wouldn't. Hell even Clark considered having the couch but knowing ma would spoil him anyway he didn't want to over do it. 

He made his way down stairs and ma walked in from outside a basket of eggs in her arms. She gave Clark a soft smile which Clark returned. “You feeling better hun?” She said as she approached, her hand reaching to touch Clark's cheek gently. “I'm sorry about what I said, I know you were upset but I-”

“Ma, it’s fine.” He looked out past her into the fields where in the distance he saw Kon and Kara working. “Is there anything you need me to do whilst i'm here?” 

She nodded and wasted no time going over all the chores Kon and Kara hadn't gotten round to yet. He made quick work of them, his muscle memory kicking in and helping him go though the chores with precision and speed. He had finished the list ma had given him by the time Kon and Kara had finished weeding and when they sat down for dinner, they quickly devoured what was on the table. 

Dessert went down as well, with Kon getting his second slice and Clark getting a slightly bigger slice than usual. Kara gave a frown at her own potion despite it being a good quarter of the pie, slathered in custard to the point that when she dug her spoon it, the yellow liquid spilled over the edge of the deep bowl. 

After the younger two finished they left the table, both had plans to do their homework. It was obvious however that those plans were mere posturing as they both flew off as soon as they were out of human earshot. Clark gave smile at that. He remembers those days. 

“I better go get Cyrus, Clark can you blend up the plate of food I put aside for him?” Clark nodded and made his way over to the plate before stopping and turning to his mother with pressed lips. 

“Actually ma I think I better go get him.”

She waved her hand and continued her pace up the stairs. Clark listened out for her and the way she halted for a good few minutes after she’d opened his door before making her way back down and over to him. “Clark I think you better go get him.” She said evenly.

He nodded and made his way upstairs. He looked into the room and up at Cyrus’s sleeping form. His ceiling was lower than Bruce's but ma would still have had to get on his bed to grab him, where as Clark could drift easily up to retrieve him. He came back down stairs and the smell of food awoke Cyrus with a start and looked around the room, and unlike ever before, he frowned.

Clark sat down and Cyrus grumbled and turned in his lap and Clark brought him to his face. His features were scrunched into a frown and Clark himself frowned back. “You okay sunshine?” 

He gave a few half hearted ‘ba’s’ before wiggling. Clark tried to understand what the gesture meant but it was lost on him and he could do nothing but let ma feed him. He ate regardless of his sour mood, but when ma tried to lift him he gave a sharp bark which startled her. “Oh boy, I think someone is gassy. Clark give him here so I can burp him.” 

Despite his grumbling he handed him to ma, who handled him easily despite his obvious surliness. He kept mumbling even after ma burped him. She went through her list of things that may have been wrong and after each one, he still remained as irritable as before. Clark had never seen him like this, tired yes, but never this. He frowned and grumbled hitting his pudgy arms against ma until Clark had to take him back. He still hit him but he was looking at him with those blue eyes and crying ‘ba!’ 

“Well, i've tried everything. Burping, nappy change, rocking him, hell I even gave him a pudding and he's still grumbling.” Ma sat at the table with a defeated air. “I don't know what else to do honey, maybe put him back to sleep?” 

Clark looked down at those eyes and knew what he had to do. “Can you hold Cyrus, ma?” 

Ma fixed him a look but didn't say anything when Clark off loaded his wiggling form without another word. He went to the other room, and reached for his phone. Despite his resolve it still took him a few minutes to dial the number. After 3 rings the call went through.

“Hello?” 

There was a grain of noise overlaying his voice from the terrible reception he had out here, but there was no mistaking who was talking. “Hey Bruce, how you doing?” 

There was a beat where the only thing Clark heard was the grain, Bruce however came back in after a moment. “I'm fine. How is the farm?” 

 

Clark gave a nod, even though Bruce couldn't see it. “Good, good. Ma is well, and Kon and Kara are too. Listen I wanted to ask you something, when you looked after Cyrus did he ever get like, grumpy?”

He went quiet again. “Grumpy how? Is he crying?” 

“No.” Clark looked into the kitchen to see ma struggling to hold a now more agitated Cyrus. “He's just, I dunno, he's frowning, and grumbling and he keeps yelling at me and ma and I don't know what to do. Did you do anything to him after he was fed that we haven't done or?” 

Bruce sighed. “Not that I know of. I really don't know what to suggest-” 

“Clark!” Ma’s voice pierced his attention and he flew to the kitchen to grab Cyrus from her grip, his wiggling too much for her to handle. He eased him into his lap and gave him a half hearted bop on the head.

“Bad Cy, you don't hurt your grandmother.” 

Martha blew a raspberry. “He didn't hurt me, he’s just wiggly.” 

Cyrus however didn't seem to be concerned with the conversation going on around him and reached his hand up to the black object in Clark's hands yelling ‘ba’ over and over. It took Clark a moment but eventually it hit him. “Bruce, you still there?”

“Yes.” Cyrus’s eyes lit up and he attempted to get closer to the phone. “Is everything okay? Cyrus didn't hurt Martha did he? Clark what's happening?”

He didn't saying anything whilst Bruce spoke, instead he watched as Cyrus started to smile and his grumbles turned into giggles. Clark himself grinned back. He nodded at ma before making his way into the other room again. 

“Bruce, he’s not frowning anymore.” 

“Oh.” Cyrus reached for the phone again. “I see. Well, that's good.”

“Yeah.” Clark brought the phone slightly lower to Cyrus. “He started smiling when he heard your voice. He's reaching for the phone when you talk.”

A lengthy silence fell over the room, with Cyrus giving a small grumble. “Really?” Bruce asked, his voice awfully quiet. 

“Yeah, he was calling for ‘ba.’ I didn't realise that was you.” Clark chuckled. “He misses you.” 

He was sure Bruce was still on the phone but the silence he was receiving made him seriously doubt that, his voice came through again, this time even quieter. “I miss him too.” 

Clark gave a bittersweet smile as he bobbed Cyrus on his lap. “So talk to him. He likes hearing you talk.”

Another silence, and this time in a slightly pained voice he spoke. “I don't know what to say.” 

“Bruce, i'm pretty sure you could just talk about anything and he’d be invested.” 

Which was how he ended up hearing Bruce talk about anything and everything that he knew, first it was basic things like his work, then he worked his way towards his ‘other’ job, until he would hit a subject and expand on it. When he mentioned Selina, he went into a story about one artifact she stole and the history of it. It was interesting hearing Bruce's train of thought like this, how precise he was with each anecdote. It differed from Clark's own which seemed to be a constant stream of unintelligible pieces. 

Cyrus ended up falling asleep in his arms, but Clark didn't stop Bruce, he listened to him talking for a full hour before Bruce stopped of his own accord. “Well, I think i've talked enough for him to not want to ever hear me do it again… How is he?” 

Clark looked at his sleeping form and pursed his lips. “Yeah he's okay, still a little restless though.” 

Bruce gave a thoughtful pause. “I see... Put the receiver close to him.” 

Clark did as he was told and brought it down close to Cyrus, even though he could have lied and kept it by his own ears, he was already lying about Cyrus being awake and he was sure Bruce was a human lie detector. Anything more may push him over the edge. 

When he fibbed he expected Bruce to keep on talking. He didn’t expect Bruce to sing. Clark recognized the song, and as soon as he did Clark’s heart swelled and he had to bite his lip to stop him from making any noises. He knew Bruce must know he was listening, with super hearing he would have been able to hear the phone from 500 feet away let alone one foot. Cyrus himself, seemed to smile in his sleep as Bruce sang, his words coming out in a soft tenor.

“The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping  
I dreamt I held you in my arms  
When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken  
So I bowed my head and I cried.”

Clark rocked Cyrus is one arm as Bruce sung, smiling as Cyrus sucked on his thumb and gurgled contently. He himself hummed along quietly as to not disturb Bruce's rendition. His would have been laughable in comparison. He never had an act for singing, but Bruce seemed to have a beautiful voice if Clark was to say so himself. It was strange how a voice which seemed so limited to grunts and murmurs, could be so sweet. 

“I've always loved you and made you happy  
And nothing else could come between  
But now you've left me to love another  
You have shattered all of my dreams.”

Bruce took his time with the words, letting them roll off his tongue slowly and softly, not once hinting that he was in a rush. Clark didn't know what he caught him in the middle of doing. He could have been in the middle of something important, and Clark was taking precious time away from him and for what? Cyrus wasn't even hearing this. He was. He felt his heart ache. He tried to tell himself he was singing for Cyrus. Clark just happened to be there.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine  
You make me happy when skies are grey  
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you  
Please don't take my sunshine away.”

Clark didn't even realize his eyes were watering until he blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek. He was startled by it, as well as Bruce going quiet. “Clark?” He asked softly, barely above a whisper. “Is he asleep now?” 

He nodded before releasing Bruce couldn't see him, he moved the receiver to his ear shakily. “Yeah… Yeah he's asleep.” He bit his lip. “Thanks Bruce.” 

He was quiet, the static from before seemingly louder now. He hadn't even noticed it when Bruce sung. “Good. Well, i'll see you both when you get back. Goodnight Clark.” 

“G’night Bruce.” 

He hung up the phone and looked around the room which he was currently sat, the living room was now dark, the setting sun bathing the room in a pale glow that was steadily getting fainter. He looked out the window towards the sky. 

He hummed to himself as he sat there, trying to summon the energy to get up. His muscles however seemed to think the couches usual cushions were comfortable and he fell asleep to thoughts of grey skies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, so I am slow when it comes to writing. I admit it. But at least this chapter is done! As usual please comment and kudos to let me know you guys are liking things. Your kind words are what keep me going. Until next time.


	5. Chapter 5

The Kent farm was quiet come the morning; what with the inhabitants of the house still being asleep, and many of the animals only beginning to open their eyes. Clark awoke when the first rays of sun started to peek over the horizon, hitting him square in the eye due to the curtains being drawn. It was also in part due to the rooster beginning to caw away outside, as well as the wriggling baby in his arms. The biggest reason though was the sound of a distant jet engine growing louder.

Planes never flew over the Kent farm. They weren’t on any flight paths that Clark was aware of and the sound of a plane was more than disconcerting. It didn’t help matters that Clark could hear it getting closer and closer to the house, as if aiming directly for it. It wasn’t long before the anomaly of the sound drew Kara to his side. “You hearing that?” She whispered.

Clark nodded distantly, focusing on the plane. He wasn’t getting much other than jet engines at the moment. Kara moved to the window and looked out, staring long and hard at the horizon. “You seeing anything?” He asked, casting an eye down to Cyrus to make sure he was okay. When he got a sleepy smile he knew the answer.

Kara turned back, sending Clark a small frown. “A plane,” she deadpanned. After a beat, she turned back to the window. 

“I mean, do you see anything inside the plane.” 

She shrugged. “I’m trying, but it’s tricky, it’s still far off and-” Her voice dropped off abruptly as her stare intensified, she made a grunt in the back of her throat. “It’s lead lined?”

Clark was up in a shot and followed her stare out the window, she moved aside and Clark looked at the incoming black dot heading straight for them. “Hold onto Cy for a second-”

“Uh uh uh, what if it’s a passenger jet and you get spotted, or worse a military one.” 

“I’m not gonna fly Kara, just see if I can get a better look.” 

After a lengthy stare off, she held out her arms and took Cyrus from him, though he gave an annoyed gurgle when Clark walked out of the house instead of feeding him. 

Clark walked down the porch and onto the dirt surrounding his house, where his mother’s pick up truck sat.

Kara was right when she said it was lead lined, no matter how hard Clark focused he couldn't get past the black bulk of the machine. Even the glass seemed to make everything inside slightly distorted. As far as Clark could discern there was a person inside. He focused on his other senses, and in a second a smile broke on his face. Lead couldn’t distort heartbeats.

Clark flew up and in the same instant Kara was there beneath him yelling. “Did you literally forget what I just said-”

But he was gone, flying through the air towards the plane, as he reached it he looked in through the glass, at this distance he could see the man inside much clearer. He waved.

Bruce waved back.

They flew together, Bruce in his plane and Clark above. He could see the house clearly, and watched as his mother got up and had walked into the kitchen, Kon was still dead to the world, and Kara thankfully was feeding Cyrus.

When they landed on a flat plot of land near the house Clark stood by the doorway of the plane, and waited for Bruce to appear. When the door swung open he couldn’t help his smile from growing wider. “Howdy Bruce!” 

Bruce rose an eyebrow and afforded a smile as he hopped down onto the ground. “You’ve only been here a day, and you’ve already got your accent back.”

Clark gave a roll of his shoulders as Bruce approached him. “It ain’t that bad.” Bruce gave him a look but made no further comment. “Anyway, I can’t believe you’re here! I mean, i’m glad you are, it’s just i wasn’t expecting it.”

Bruce’s eyes took on a thoughtful quality as he looked towards the house. “You don’t think they’ll mind me being here?”

“Naw.” Clark batted his hand. “They won’t mind.” He had hoped his words would quell the uncertainty in Bruce’s eyes, but it was still there. “I mean, you may have to sleep on the floor-”

“I’m not staying the night.” He said quickly, before biting his lip. “I have work in Gotham.”

Clark nodded slowly. “Sure.” He looked at the plane, and then back at Bruce.

The front door burst open and Kara’s mop of blond hair shot out. “Clark, help! Cyrus is trying to kill me!” As if to illustrate her point she stepped further out onto the porch and sure enough Cyrus was pounding his chubby little fists on her chest. He stopped however when he was outside, his head turning.

“Ba!” 

Kara groaned. “He keeps shouting it and I don’t know what he wants! Ma just said you would know what to do.” Her eyes caught Bruce and she gave a nod as a way of greeting, Clark came to her, and Bruce followed behind. 

“Thanks Kara.” He said as he eased the baby back to him, Kara went inside grumbling quietly. 

As Bruce walked up to Clark, Cyrus was stretching for him so much that Clark was sure if he didn’t have speed and strength on his side, Cyrus would be on the floor right now. 

“Hello sunshine.” Bruce said quietly and if anything Cyrus stretched further, with streams of baby gibberish coming from his mouth. Bruce took him readily pressing him close and letting his head rest against his neck.

Clark watched on, smiling broadly. “I think you’re his favourite.” 

Bruce tried to suppress a smile, his lips quivering ever so slightly. Cyrus however brought a hand up to Bruce and patted him on the chin whilst babbling and Bruce’s resolve broke. His lips pulled into a soft smile. “I’m sure he’d act the same if you were to be gone for a while.”

“Thanks Bruce, but I doubt that.” He looked at Cyrus who hadn't so much as glanced in his direction since Bruce landed. “Have you eaten yet? You're here pretty early you know.” Clark had walked to the door but stopped when he noticed Bruce hadn't followed. 

“Are sure they won't mind me being here? I know I've just sort of-”

“Bruce i’m telling you. They won't mind. Now get you butt in there. Ma’s making pancakes.”

He nodded, but Clark didn't miss the hesitation in his steps. He opened the door and entered the kitchen. “Morning ma.”

“Morning hun. “ She didn't turn, keeping her head on the bowl in her arms, whisking briskly. “Good morning Bruce.” For him she did turn, giving a smile. “Please take a seat. I take it you'll be wanting some breakfast?”

“If it isn't too much trouble.” He said evenly as he waited for Clark to sit, taking the place beside him when he did. He gave a look around the room, barely moving his head as he did so. 

“Did you want pancakes? Cause I can always whip you up something else.” She was pouring the batter onto the skillet, flipping them and dishing them out once they were cooked. Kara grabbed hers first and Clark waited for his batch. Hopefully Kon would stay asleep until he got his. 

Bruce looked at Clark, an impersible look on his face before looking towards Martha shoulders. “I’m fine with anything.” 

She turned from the hob, a plate of pancakes in her hand. “Pancake’s it is then.” She sat the plate down in front of him. “There is syrup and other fixin’s on the table. Enjoy.” She smiled at the slight petulant look on Clark’s face. “Yours are coming next hun.” 

Clark couldn’t help but watch Bruce as he ate. Due to Cyrus being on his lap and having to keep one arm wrapped around him, he used his fork to break the pancakes into manageable bites before bringing the fork to his lip. Surprisingly Cyrus sat rather still for the first few bites, but that soon ended when Bruce went for his fifth bite. Cyrus made a long whine to which Bruce responded quickly, taking his fork and wiping it across the puddle of syrup on his plate before bringing it to Cyrus’s lips. Cyrus’s little tongue would come out and wipe off the dribble of syrup from the fork, quieting him down. Bruce repeated the process whenever Cyrus would begin to fidget. 

When Clark’s food came he didn't even attempt to eat it with any amount of pace. He practically hovered them down his throat and quickly brought the empty plate to Martha attention. She was already onto his next batch. “So what brings you to the farm Bruce?” She asked as she flipped one of the pancakes. 

Bruce seemed distracted as he slowly brought his fork down onto the table. His eyes were focused on the linen covering it and Clark could practically see the wheels turning inside his head. “I thought the country air would do me good.” He said evenly. 

Martha gave a hearty nod. “I always tell Clark county air is better for your health than any medicine. I remember when I visited him in Metropolis, I had a headache the entire weekend.” 

Bruce seemed to relax as he gave a nod. He didn't pick his fork back up however, despite the half full place still in front of him. “Anyway, I think i'm going to go for a quick walk. Thank you for breakfast Martha.”

 

“Please.” She gave Clark his new plate. “Call me Ma.” 

He gave a nod, before looking at Clark. “I'll be outside.” 

And with that he was out of the door, he heard Cyrus gurgling as Bruce walked out, and across the grounds. Clark cast a glance at his mother, but her face was carefully guarded as she sat at the table and sipped her coffee. Clark was well aware of his mother's opinions on Bruce and didn't want to hear them again, he remained quiet as he finished off his food.

Throughout however, he could feel ma’s gaze on him, but he did not rise his eyes from his plate until he was done. “Those were delicious Ma. I'm gonna head outside.” He smiled, and before Ma could open her mouth he shot up and out the room.

Bruce wasn't far. He was by one of the fences marking the perimeter of the farmhouse, separating it from the open fields, he flew over quickly. “Hey.” If Bruce was surprised by his sudden appearance he didn't show it.

“Hello Clark.” He turned his head halfway in his direction before turning it back out onto the fields. Cyrus was quiet too as Bruce stood mindlessly patting his small back. “How have things been here?”

“Good.” Clark bobbed his head. “How's Gotham?” 

Bruce nodded. “Good.” 

Clark bit his lip from asking the obvious question. He looked at Cyrus, whose eyes were turned upwards to Bruce, and Clark felt his mouth opening. “Bruce, why did you really come out here?” 

That caught Bruce and Clark saw he was speechless. It was subtle, his mouth seemed to move slightly but no words came. His face remained stoic, but his eyes were glassy. “I- am…” Bruce shifted Cyrus to free one of his hands. He ran it across his face. “I couldn't sleep.” 

Clark pursed his lips. “So you flew here?”

Bruce nodded. “Yes.” 

Clark waited for more, and perhaps sensing this Bruce sighed. “I came out here to talk to you. I was going to wait until you came back to the manor, but then I-” he sighed, and seemed to draw encouragement from Cyrus who was apparently only now discovering his onsie had buttons on it and was currently playing with them. “I had bad dream, so I flew out here.” 

At this Clark frowned. “What was the dream about?” 

If Bruce's stare down at Cyrus was anything to go by, Clark had a fairly good idea. “That's not important. I wanted to apologize. About yesterday.” 

Clark racked his brain for what Bruce would need to apologize for, and drew a blank. His confusion must have been apparent as Bruce went on. “I made you uncomfortable. I was worried you weren't going to come back to the manor.” He fixed him with those stormy eyes, and Clark felt his own widen. “For that I apologize.” 

“Jesus Bruce, you don't need to apologize. Heck I should be the one apologizing, what ever I said, I'm sorry.” 

He sighed at that. It seemed Clark was in a habit of making Bruce sigh. It wasn't out of exasperation though, more that his body couldn't hold onto the air anymore and had to let it out, deflating Bruce in the process. He seemed smaller now. “I know I should have said something then but I-” He cut himself off, shaking his head. 

Clark inched his way forward, and noticed Cyrus turning himself in Bruce's arms, he saw Clark and smiled, reaching one of his hands out towards him. 

Even Bruce seemed to forget himself and smiled at the gesture, and Clark found himself bringing his hand up to Cyrus, intending to let those little fingers wrap around one of his.

That did in fact happen, Clark however was not prepared to be tugged with all of the strength of a superhuman baby towards Bruce. “Jesus-” his feet gave out as he was pulled forward. Everything went slow as Clark came to the conclusion that something was going to break in the next couple of seconds. He collided with Bruce and they landed in a heap of broken wood and dry grass. After the dust settled, Cyrus giggled despite being compressed between the two and wiggled contently as Bruce groaned.

 

“Bruce are you okay?” Clark lifted himself up and saw the grimace on Bruce's face, his eyes squeezed shut, despite the fall his arms were still resolutely around Cyrus’s pudgy form. Clark frowned at him. “You shouldn’t have done that Cy, we could have hurt ba.” Cyrus gurgled unhappily as his lips bobbed, he turned to Bruce and made a few noises, patting Bruce on the chin. Bruce’s eye fluttered open and immediately caught Clark’s. 

It was probably at this time that Clark should have stood up, brushed the splinters of wood off himself, and helped Bruce up, but he didn’t. He stayed where he was, looking down at Bruce's face which morphed from pain to quiet intrigue. 

His body didn’t feel like his own in that moment, registering everything that happened a few seconds after it occurred. He became aware of Bruce's hand resting gently on his thigh, as well as the rise and fall of his chest only now, and not when they had landed on the ground. This lapse in concentration was most likely what led to Clark only then becoming aware that Bruce’s face seemed to be getting closer and closer to him. 

Kissing Bruce was not what he expected. The few times he allowed himself to imagine what would be like if it were to happen, there was a lot more romance in the situation. As it stood currently, with the dirt ground beneath them and a wiggling baby between them, Clark doubted this could be considered romantic. He quickly pulled away, and though their kiss lasted a grand total of 0.5 seconds, Bruce looked up at him, eyes wide. “Did you just kiss me?” He asked quietly. 

Clark pressed his lips together. “Uh, no?”

“Clark.” Bruce’s voice was firm.

He winced. “Yes?” 

The quietness that seemed to always surround the farm became quite prominent than, and Clark wished more than anything for the noise of traffic to drown out his own laboured breathing and Bruce’s racing heart. “Why?”

Why indeed, Clark asked himself. The sentence he wanted to say was there in his mind, seemingly ready to be said, but when he opened his mouth all that came out were disjointed words. “Because I-, you-, I guess,-” Clark took a moment, breathing in deep and steadying himself. He opened his eyes. “Because I like you.” 

Bruce's face flickered with what Clark could only assume was surprise, quickly followed by suspicion. “Really?” 

“Well, yeah Bruce.” He wanted to fidget as he spoke, but his hands being on either side of Bruce made that hard, his fingers ended up gripped into the dirt, getting under his fingernails. “Do you-” He grimaced. “Do you like me?” His voice rose a few octaves with each word, until the me sounded more like a squeak than an actual human speech. 

Bruce's stare was level, and for a moment Clark thought his stomach was going to leap out of his mouth. He mentally prepared for the worst and when he saw Bruce's lips open again he couldn't help but wince. “Of course I do.”

It took him a moment to understand what words had been said, and as he registered them his eyes opened wide. “Really?” 

“Yes, really.” His cheeks were dusted with pink. “A lot really. To the point where the boys threatened to trap me in a closet with you to make something happen between us. I don't know how they’d feel about a infant managing to accomplish what they couldn’t.” 

Clark huffed a laugh. “Yeah well, Cyrus is pretty clever.” 

Clark wasn't aware smugness was an emotion babies could exhibit but the way Cyrus smiled and darted his eyes between the two made Clark think that that was exactly what he was trying to get across. Clark rose as elegantly as possible from the ground, which of course meant slipping on the fragments of wood that were once a fence, and nearly ending up back on the floor. Bruce got up easily, as if he hadn't just been mown down onto the ground and holding a wiggling infant. He adjusted Cyrus before seeming to understand what had just happened. Clark himself was still processing everything and could only stare dumbly when Bruce spoke. “So, what does this mean for us?” 

Registering the question, but not knowing how to answer, Clark pursed his lips. “What do you mean?”

“I mean.” He seemed annoyed, and Clark realised he was just as at a lose as he was. “I mean, are we together now? Or are we, I don't know-” He shrugged. “Two friends who like each other?” 

“Well…” Clark looked towards the house, he saw Kara by the window, and though she had earphones in Clark knew they weren’t playing music. “Currently we are two friends who like each other, but if you want to make that something more, we can do.”

Clark felt 15 years old all over again. In fact this whole situation felt eerily similar to when he asked Lana to the prom, right down to Clark awkwardly fiddling with his hands, and feeling like his whole body was too large. Bruce seemed less burdened with this problem, his lips curled up in the corners he made a move towards him, and Clark forced himself to keep his eyes open.

Which he evidently failed at as he was taken aback by Bruce's lips on his. He opened his eyes and after a beat Bruce pulled away. “I want to be something more.”

 

With flushed cheeks and pursed lips, Clark nodded quickly. “You want to be a couple?” 

Bruce’s eyes seemed sad, despite the smile he gave. “More than anything.”

This kiss was the best of the three. It lasted more than a second which put it above the first, and Clark actually kept his eyes open as Bruce approached his face, meaning he was able to see the way Bruce’s eyes fluttered shut, and his lips parted ever so slightly. Clark even felt his body tingle as Bruce’s lips moved against his and if it wasn’t for Cyrus choosing this exact moment to go to the bathroom, Clark was certain it would have been the greatest kiss of all time. He pulled away, and frowned. “I think Cy-”

“I’ll go change him.” Bruce said quickly, and Clark could do nothing but nod. All at once he remembered where he was and when he looked towards the house, he could see Kara staring blatantly out the window towards him. She was grinning from ear to ear and Clark watched her as he walked with Bruce into the house.

Once inside, Bruce headed upstairs and Clark turned his head towards Kara who was looking straight back at him. “Did that really just happen?”

Clark frowned. “You shouldn’t have been eaves dropping. It’s rude.”

“There wasn’t much else to do. Nothing good on TV this early in the morning.”

“Kara.” Clark ground out.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry for listening in.” She turned back towards the window, keeping her eyes on Clark. “I’m glad though. You two are good together.”

Clark felt what little annoyance he had evaporate and just when Clark was going to check on Bruce, Kon ambled into the room. “What are you guys talking about?” He grumbled, his hair still ruffled from sleep. He was making his way to the kitchen but paused near Clark.

“Oh nothing nothing… Just that Tim is now technically your step brother.”

Like a bucket of ice water, Kon’s eyes burst open and his whole body seemed to ignite with energy. “Wait, what?”

“Kara.” Clark said sternly. She only shrugged and Clark turned to Kon who was now staring at him with a gaze which can only be equaled to that of a rabbit in headlights. “Me and Bruce are together, but that does not mean we are married.” He said the last part at Kara, who in tern blew a raspberry.

“Well if things go well, which they will, you'll get married, and Kon and Tim will be brothers.” She said the last part with a small smile.

“That is not funny Kara.” His voice was brittle, threatening to crack at any moment.

“I’m not saying it to be funny! I’m just telling you what just happened. Clark literally just confirmed it!” She gestured towards Clark and Kon's eyes caught on him, widening into disbelief. 

“You and Bruce are really…?” He didn't finish, letting his words taper off. Clark nodded at the unfinished question and Kon made his way past him, not into the kitchen, but out of the house. Clark nearly followed after but Kara was there holding him back.

“Give him some time.”

Clark stared at the door where Kon had been just a few seconds prior. “I didn't think he'd react that badly.” It made Clark wonder how his mother was going to react and that thought made him shiver.

“Kon has had the biggest crush on Tim for like ever, seeing you get with his dad is just the fire up his ass he needs to actually do something. I mean, it’s gonna make family get togethers hella awkward-” She turned to Clark, gesturing to the empty space next to her. “Hello aunt Viv, this is my partner Bruce and his son Tim, who also happens to be dating my son Kon.” She grinned and when Clark did nothing but stare blankly back at her, she shrugged. “Eh, well. Who cares? We’re allowed to be unconventional. We’re freakin aliens.” 

She brushed past Clark out of the living room, and Bruce came in past her. She gave him a smile and Bruce returned it, albeit to less of an extent. Cyrus was still in his arms, though now he was out of his onesie and into an bright blue shirt, and green pants. Clark stared at the outfit choice but said nothing. The change however made him aware that he was still in yesterday's clothes, and he looked down at his ruffled clothes. “I’m gonna go change, I’ll be right back.”

Bruce gave a small nod and as he walked past, he came in close and kissed Clark softly on the cheek. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” He pulled away and gave a shy smile. Clark watched in awe as Bruce walked away, he didn't feel shock so much as a sudden overwhelming sense of happiness. He couldn't help but beam as he went upstairs and pulled on a new shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeeeeeeeeey guuuuys... So, uh, been awhile hasn't it? I am so sorry about the delay. I've started proper work and the fact that on my days off I just want to read and chill means I haven't been getting much writing done. I know for how long I've been gone you guys were probably expecting a chapter of Herculean proportions, and I am sorry that this is a half eaten fish in comparison.
> 
> I was going to add more to this chapter, but I figured i'd give you guys 'something' and just continue on in a later chapter. Also any spelling mistakes and stuff, I am so sorry for, but I don't have a beta, and my eyeballs are really shitty for picking up typos and other things. 
> 
> Anyway here's to another 2 month wait for the next chapter! 
> 
> ... Guys? Why have you all got pitchforks? Guys??
> 
> Okay seriously, I'm gonna attempt to get into some form of regularity but until then, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As always leave comments, I love hearing from you all.


	6. Chapter 6

Clark would have liked to have said that as soon as he was dressed he would tell his mother everything. The longer he left it, the more likely she would be to take it badly, so it made sense for him to go downstairs, walk into the kitchen, tell his mother, and attempt to close his ears from any of her ‘motherly advice.’

That however, is not what happened. Clark felt Bruce’s presence in the room shortly after he pulled his shirt over his head and when he turned Bruce was frowning. “Diana called. We’re needed at HQ.”

With pursed lips Clark nodded. He would tell Ma as soon as the meeting was over.

As they walked down stairs Clark said a quick goodbye to both Kara and Martha, reassuring the latter he would be coming back once finished. Kon was still nowhere to be found, but Clark tried not to think too much about that. He needed time to think, and Clark could sympathise.

He also said he would be back soon, but that was somewhat of a lie. The League meetings had a tendency to drag on for hours if allowed. Usually due to Bruce, but he didn't say that when the man in question was standing right next to him.

It was quicker for Clark to fly him and Bruce to the nearest teleporter than to use Bruce’s plane so that's how they travelled. Clark recalls a time Bruce was put off by the prospect of Clark carrying him, this time however Bruce almost displayed a level of eagerness, though he would vehemently deny it if ever questioned.

Martha had voiced looking after Cyrus whilst they went to the meeting, but both Clark and Bruce seemed reluctant. Whilst Clark couldn’t discern Bruce’s reasonings, he himself wanted the League to actually meet his pudgy clone. No one had actually seen him aside from Ray as far as Clark was aware.

Of course Bruce wrote a report about the whole incident so it wasn’t as if they were hiding anything. It was just that reading about Cyrus and actually seeing him were two completely different things. 

When they got there, Clark could see they were the last to arrive. The meeting room was already alive with the sounds of pounding hearts and quiet voices. Diana stood by the teleporter pad waiting and darted her eyes to Cyrus when they appeared. “You’re late.” She said evenly.

As they stepped off the pad, Clark gave a quick look to Cyrus and realised why Diana had eyed him. He gave a small laugh at Cyrus’s wide open eyes and dropped mouth. Clark couldn’t even begin to imagine what he must be thinking after being teleported. Clark was overwhelmed by it when he was a 30 something adult so for Cyrus, who barely comprehended object permanence, it must have blown his tiny brain. He turned back to Diana. “Having to fly from Smallville with a human who can't go through too much g-force will do that.” He said easily.

“I understand. Just know that some people have been waiting a long time.” Clark wanted to say it was there own fault for showing up early, but he didn’t. He knew there was no real fire in Diana’s voice (he would know if there was.) She just had a certain finality to her voice when she spoke as if her word was law. Clark noticed the same thing in Bruce, which is why his general rejection by the League always baffled him. Diana never faced the same scrutiny Bruce got. 

Bruce's status as the black sheep of the League was well known by all, including Bruce himself. It wasn't that he was actively hated, it was just that Bruce never made an effort with anyone, and therefore no one made any effort with him. He would sit in on meetings, say his opinion, say someones else's opinion was wrong if it conflicted with his own, and then go home to Gotham. On team missions this dynamic became more pronounced, as Bruce adamantly refused to be paired with anyone, and only with Clark after much persuading. This however wasn’t always the case.

Clark had to admit when Bruce first joined the League, he didn’t pay too much attention to him either. He probably would have carried on ignoring the black kevlar clad elephant in the room aswell had it not been for Martha, who always taught him everyone deserves a chance, and he knew it couldn't be easy for even a man like Batman to not have a friend.

At first it was like talking to a wall, but he didn’t give up. Almost making it a game to see how many words he could get out of Bruce each time they spoke. He found out snippets of his life, and in return he told him about his heritage, making extra sure not to reveal too much about his Kansas upbringing. Days ended up blurring into weeks, and eventually Clark cracked Bruce. It happened at a meeting where a battle of wills broke out between Ollie and Bruce, Clark stepped in and to everyone's shock Bruce backed down.

It was a first, and even Ollie joked that Clark had now become the League’s bat whisperer.

Everyone else in the League had no problem with the social aspect of it, in fact many spent time together even when not working. He had even heard whispers about a book club, and if he had more time he’d have been tempted to join himself.

Bruce on the other hand was always this hard to grasp enigma. The playboy billionaire who, if he had his way, would never go to a party ever again. 

A while back, after Bruce had finally told him about his secret identity, he had explained to Clark why he created the ‘Brucie’ persona. It had been right after a particularly volatile meeting, where if Clark recalls correctly; Ollie had called Bruce something that rhymed with ‘you ducking basshole, duck off and buy.’ 

Bruce had seemed oddly affected by this particular tirade, despite facing similar from Ollie in the past, and asked if Clark wanted to get a cup of coffee.

Clark of course agreed. Any opportunity to spend time with Bruce outside of work was one he eagerly grabbed at. He couldn’t remember when exactly he started falling for Bruce, but sitting with him in a run down coffee shop on Gotham's lower east side, as the rain pelted against the foggy glass was definitely near the beginning of it.

‘Don't you think the quiet recluse billionaire would be a more likely candidate for Batman than an idiot drunk who spends his days partying with models?’ Bruce paused to sip from his cup of coffee, and the steam from it ghosted against his pale cheeks. His slate grey eyes flicked up at him and Clark remembers thinking how beautiful they were. ‘It’s a form of insurance, if anyone ever suspects anything, there will always be one person near by who says, ‘who? Bruce Wayne? no, can't be him. He's a moron; thinks Picasso is a type of pasta.’’

Clark always recalls this conversation, not just because it of how open Bruce was with him during it but because after that Bruce’s odd personalities started to make sense. He no longer wondered how the quiet man sipping a coffee in front of him was the same one who was once found naked in the Gotham Plaza fountain with three supermodels sat beside him holding champagne glasses.

In a way, what Bruce did perfectly mirrored what Clark did himself. He walked with a hunch, never combed his hair, attempted to speak softly and without making eye contact. He found it helped stem the flow of comments about his likeness to Superman. He will not deny his career was also an influence. People just don't expect Superman to be a mild mannered reporter in his free time, and when people don't expect something they very rarely notice it.

“We should head in.” Bruce said, as he walked past Clark down the steps towards Diana.  
With everyone inside the meeting room already the walk there was quiet. As they passed one of the observation windows Clark stared out onto the visage of earth, as it made its slow rotation, barely perceptible to anyone but him.

“I'm suprised you havent commented on Cyrus.” Clark said as they walked.

Diana turned her head and stared at the baby in Bruce’s arms. She gave a small nod of her head, and Cyrus gave a half wave in response. She smiled and turned back to Clark. “I’ve read Bruce’s report, so it’s not like I am surprised about his presence. Also Ray mentioned it in passing. Something about cake?” She shook her head. “He just kept talking... but Cyrus was mentioned briefly.” When they reached the meeting room she held open the door, and a brief look of concern crossed her face. “I regret to say Cyrus is why we are having this meeting.”

Clark wanted to say he expected this but he really didn't, and the look of betrayal must have been evident as Diana lowered her gaze as she walked to the head of the table. Everyone had stopped their conversations as the door was opened, and a number of looks were directed at Bruce and to a further extent the baby in his arms as they walked in. His face was carefully blank and Clark tried to do the same but Diana's words had irked him, and he knew that reflected on his features. 

“Alright, with our final members here we can commence with the meeting.” Diana said loud enough to stop the final few errant conversations. Bruce took the seat next to her and sadly the only other available seat was on the opposite end of the table leaving Clark to sit beside Ollie. He tried to send Bruce a reassuring smile when their eyes met, but he doubted his face gave any resemblance to what one would call ‘reassuring’.

“So, I take it everyone has read Bruce's report?” She paused and waited for everyone to give a small nod, well everyone aside from Arthur who looked around the table in confusion before shaking his head by a negligible margin. Diana however chose to ignore him and continued. “I had meant to schedule this meeting sooner, but with everyone being busy it's been tricky.”

“Anyway, the purpose of this meeting is to discuss the new super clone, and what should be done about him.”

This caught Clark in the wrong way and as if sensing his icy stare Diana turned to him. “I just mean if special care will be needed. Remember what we went through with Kara? We can save a lot of trouble if we sort matters out now.”

“There's nothing to discuss.” He said, his voice firm. “He’s staying with me and Bruce. End of.” The mere mention of his name caused undue stares to travel across the table. Bruce returned most of them with a mild air of boredom about him. Cyrus however gave a small wave to the new faces.

“Wait.” Ollie sat forward in his seat, half turning his head towards Clark. “You and Bruce? What, you planning on moving in with him Clark?” He said the last part with a laugh in his voice.

“Yes Ollie. Not that it is any of your business.” He tried to frown, but his face felt hot and incapable of movement.

“Well, that should be interesting shouldn’t it Brucie?” Ollie winked at Bruce who returned the look with a cold stare.

Diana taking all of this in her stride, focused back on Clark. “I understand you may have dealt with that issue, but there are other matters to discuss as well. For one thing, do you have any idea what we’ve have been hearing coming from Cadmus due to Cyrus’s abduction? It's been non stop emails, phone calls, all intercepted and all of them saying the same thing. ‘If we don’t find subject sigma, restart plan zeta.’”

“Zeta?” Clark felt his blood run cold.

“Me and Bruce have been trying to figure out what they mean.” She typed away at the small keyboard in front of her and soon small terminals started to rise from the table, giving each member a clear view of the documents in question. Clark speed read them and the knot in his stomach grew tighter. “All we can deduce is that plan zeta is going to an attempt at recreating the success of Cyrus. Which, if their prior research is anything to go by, was like lighting striking twice.” On the screen Clark recognised some of the documents, they were the first ones he and Bruce had found at Cadmus. He attempted to read one before manually exiting the screen.

“Of course it would be better for them to find Cyrus, which is why there is added surveillance in Metropolis as well as way more underground activity. They're keeping it quiet though. It would be a PR disaster for them if they didn't, which fortunately makes our lives a lot easier. It's unlikely that Cadmus is going to stretch their hand as far as Gotham, which means he's more than safe there.”

“Also having Batman as a nanny helps things.” Ollie smirks

“Yes, having Bruce there will help keep things under control. We just need a few more people involved in tracking down where this new operation is taking place. I did a sweep of the location where Cyrus was found, but it's more likely to be in a new facility. Me and Bruce are already involved but if anyone one else could offer their support that would be appreciated.”

The room went silent, and it felt like no one would be the one to break it. Their eyes turned from Clark to one another and their gazes seemed conflicted. 

Eventually Barry leant forward, looking to Diana as if asking for permission to speak. . “I mean, I have no problem helping to take down the base when it's found. It’s just… Well, I have my own work to focus on at the Lab, and Captain Cold is doing everything he can to mess with Central City so I just can’t-” When he realised all eyes were on him, his stared at the table resolutely. “I can't help right ‘now’, is what I’m trying to say…” 

“Thank you for your imput Barry.” Diana said earnestly. “I am well aware all of you have your own issues, and that this is a lot to ask from you. So if you could just please keep an ear out and report anything unusual to myself, Bruce or Clark it would be greatly appreciated.”

“Now, unless anyone else had anything to say?” She paused and looked around at the small smattering of shaking heads. “Alright then. I think we are done here. Clark. Bruce. If you could stay please.”

A murmur rose around the room as everyone started to get up, Ollie bumped his shoulder against his as he got up and Clark was aware that something was being said to him but he couldn't pay attention to it. He assumed it was some form of apology so mumbled out a small noncommittal grunt.

As the last of the members left the room, Clark felt an eerie quietness descend. He looked down the table at his ‘team’.

Bruce was staring back at him, keeping his face level as Diana cleared her throat. “Alright, I know our team seems small, but that doesn't matter. Two heads are better than one after all, or in this case three.”

“Technically four.” Clark said as he moved closer to their end of the table, his eyes firmly on Cyrus.

Diana smiled at that. “True.” She said as she started fiddling with the monitors again. “As the previous Cadmus facilities taking part in these experiments have resided in Metropolis it has led me to believe plan zeta will as well. Clark, if you could do sweeps of the city, looking out for any underground buildings or anything that strikes you as suspicious, we could narrow down our area of interest. Bruce in your report you say a source told you about the facility where you found Cyrus, who were they?”

Clark realised then that he had never asked Bruce this question himself. He remembers the conversation though, where Bruce first told him about the new Cadmus lab. They were in the Batcave, something that had only just started to become a common occurrence for him. Bruce had called him over to tell him late one night and Clark had dreaded what he would say the entire flight over.

“I heard about a new Cadmus lab opening in Metropolis. I thought I should let you know I'm going to investigate it.” Bruce was facing the computer as he spoke so didn't see Clark's face turn into a one of fear and then anger.

“What? Another lab? God Bruce, what if they're making another clone?”

“Highly unlikely.”

“Still, it's Cadmus. ‘Luthor’. I wouldn't put it past him to be trying something. Let me come with you.”

“No.”

“This isn't up for discussion. I'm coming.” 

“Clark. No.”

“I'm going with you.”

The rest of the conversation bled into one large mass of ‘Clark, no’ and ‘Bruce, yes,’ which in a roundabout way led to the baby currently sitting on Bruce's lap, and to a further extent the fact that he and Bruce were now together. 

Clark felt his cheeks heat up at that thought. It was strange. He expected everything with Bruce to feel different somehow, but it felt largely the same. He still felt that same quiet burn of attraction, that same want for closeness, but now he knew Bruce felt it too.

“I was infiltrating a group of homeless people in Gotham.” Bruce says as he readjusted Cyrus on his lap. “I was asking them how they got there and if they had any plans, and one of them said how he’d heard about a cleaning job at this lab facility, but that it was all the way in Metropolis. He didn’t seem to mind though, said he was done with Gotham. When I probed further, he said how he called them up, and asked about it, only to be told he didn't have relevant experience.”

“That was my first indication something was amiss. He had five years experience as a janitor in a convenience store, why wouldn't he be qualified for this? I kept on pushing to see if he could remember the name of the place, but he said he couldn’t and instead gave me the phone number he used. I went back to the cave and gave them a call. I traced it, and did a cross reference only to figure out my hunch was right. It was Cadmus.”

Clark felt a sense of awe wash over him. He hadn't even considered the work Bruce had gone to to get the information. He seemed blase as he spoke, but Clark was well aware of how much work it must have been. He didn't want to think of what could be happening right now if Bruce hadn’t done what he had. He watched Cyrus as Bruce bounced him on his thigh. He shouldn't dwell on what could have been. All he needed to know was what's happening now.

“-Clark?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you if you had heard anything about the facility prior to Bruce’s mentioning of it to you.”

“Oh…” He shook his head. “No. I didn't know anything about it.”

“Strange. Especially considering it was happening in Metropolis, in a not too advanced facility if my sweeps of it showed me anything.” Diana folded her hands in front of her, tapping a finger on the table.

Bruce gave a mild shrug. “It makes perfect sense actually. Cadmus is so concerned about Superman hearing anything, that they keep a close guard of any information he may become aware of. They don't even consider a random bum in Gotham as a leak. I think whilst Clark scans Metropolis, I’ll see if I can garner any new information about the potential lab using my own sources. What about you Diana?”

“I'll coordinate, as well as intercept information.”

Bruce nodded. “Alright then, with that settled I'll have to call an end to this meeting as Cyrus is  
getting cranky and wants his moomoo.”

Diana pursed her lips.

“Milk.” Bruce said crisply.

“I gathered. Go right ahead.”

Bruce got up and looked towards Clark, who in turn felt his legs moving on their own before his mind had any say. He got up from the table and sent a nod to Diana. He hoped it got across the gratitude he felt.

Once near the teleporter Clark pulled Bruce to a stop. “Did you really stay with those homeless people?” He said quietly, and when Bruce stopped walking Cyrus grumbled.

“Yes.” A frown. “Why, do you think I lied?”

“No!” He jolted, his hands coming up to Bruce's sides. “I just, well, I guess I wanted to thank you. If you hadn't of done that Cyrus wouldn't be here right now.”

Bruce’s face turned into a half frown and Clark realised he was embarrassed. It was a funny look on Bruce, partly due to how adamantly his face refused to show it, but it was there. The minor blush and the small frown. “It was nothing.”

“It really wasn’t Bruce…” He leant forward slightly and pressed his forehead against Bruce’s. “Thank you.” He breathed out, and at those words Bruce gave a sharp intake.

Clark would have liked to stay in that moment with Bruce. Where he could feel Bruce’s warm breath against his lips, and his heart beating steadily, but he needed to get back to Smallville.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo all! Just to let you know I have edited this chapter quiet a bit. Not in the sense of what happens, more just changing the flow etc. I hope you all enjoy the improved version. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comment if you like what you read! Also apologies for any typos. Until next time! :)


	7. Chapter 7

By the time they had returned to the Kent farm and fed the now placated Cyrus, it was already late in the day, and Clark couldn't bring himself to say anything to his mother. He tried to justify it by saying he didn't have the right opportunity, but sitting with her in the living room watching TV whilst Bruce tended to Cyrus and Kara worked on the farm, Clark realised this was the right time.

And yet, he couldn’t say anything. 

His mouth felt like it was clamped shut as he stared at his mother watching the television set; her eyes barely moving from the image on screen. Clark’s heart hammered inside his chest, as his palms grew sweaty. 

He tried to focus his mind on Bruce upstairs, who was putting Cyrus down for a nap and humming to him softly, but even what was meant to be soothing caused Clarks guts to knot up, it just reminded him of the inevitability of what he had to do. 

When a commercial came on Martha made a move to get up, she half turned to Clark with a smile on her lips and before Clark was aware of his mouths betrayal he called out her name, soft and broken. “Ma?” 

One way to get Martha's full and unwavering motherly instincts to fall on you was to say her name like it was your dying breath, she plopped back down on the seat, her eyes fixed to him. “What is it hun?”

Now Clark had to use all of his mental capacities to keep this conversation as painless as possible. “It's about Bruce…”

And before Clark could get another word out from his uncooperating mouth, he saw his mother's face flicker with realization as she nodded slowly. Clark tried to talk but his words came out all in a rush, incomprehensible to human ears, so that all Martha heard was a strained ‘uhh’. “I see…” She said slowly. “Well Clark, I hate to say I told you so but,” she didn't finish, offering up a small smile. “Cyrus can stay here with us, don't you worry.” 

Clark's eyes widened. “No, ma… It's not that, Bruce ain't kicking us out.” 

“Oh?” She sounded surprised.

“Yeah.” He tried to give a nod but his head seems stiff, and it made the movement look robotic. “It's not about Cyrus at all. It's about me and him.”

Martha eyebrows pleated as he leant back in her seat. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, me and Bruce are-” This was it, the moment, what everything to this point was building up to, and Clark just needed to say one word. One word and everything would be out in the open and he wouldn't have to worry about it ever again. He should be saying the word, should be opening his mouth, but he isn't, and Martha's eyes go from curious to concerned, as Clark realised he isn't actually breathing, his face formed into a hapless grimace. 

“Clark honey?” Martha moved towards him, her hand outstretched, and face a revoir of concern. Her touch startled Clark, and like pulling a plug from a bathtub, it caused the word that was struggling to find its way out of his throat tumble out.

“Together, Ma. Me and Bruce are together.” His words came out with more air that sound.

Despite everything Clark had imagined, his mother's lack of reaction to the news was not as comforting as it should have been. She kept her stare level, and lips pressed tight. This lack of response was more alarming to Clark than the outright explosion of emotion he had expected. He feel his chest grow tight as he waited for her to speak. “Oh.” She said steadily. 

Clark wanted to throw up. Oh? Fucking oh? He could have got oh by telling her he broke the lock on the front door, or that a dog dragged a rabbit carcass inside the house. He dwelled on that single syllable and his jaw clenched. “Oh?” He repeated, his voice strained.

She nodded as if agreeing with the question rather than answering it. “It's just a lot to take in honey.” This did much to calm Clark, and almost immediately his anger dropped, replaced with sympathy. She seemed lost as she brought a hand up to wipe her face. “I didn't even know you were gay.”

Clark flushed. “To be honest, I didn't really know I was.” He'd know he had feelings for Bruce, but that was the entirety of his homosexual odyssey. No other man had ever drawn his attention. 

Ma just nodded again, this time breathing in deep as she did. “I see.” She fidgeted on the couch, obviously wishing to be away from this situation just as much as Clark did. She eventually gave up on the possibility and let her body fall more comfortably against the couch. “I just-” A sigh. “Am I wrong for thinking you haven't thought this through?”

He made a face. “Thought what through?” 

“I’m sure Bruce is nice.” Clark raised a brow, and Martha held up her hands. “But! Do you really know him? Like honest to God know him? When’s his birthday?” 

“February 19th.” 

“Okay-”

“Look Ma, whilst I’d love to play the ‘Bruce Wayne trivia game’, it's not gonna help anything is it? I could tell you everything I knew about him but all you would say is, ‘well, just knowing a lot about someone isn't a good basis for a relationship’ and you know what? You're right. But that still doesn't change the fact that I really care about Bruce, probably more than I've cared about anyone before, and I like to think he feels the same way. Yeah, it may be hard making it work, but I'm looking forward to it, I'm looking forward to spending more time with him, and actually being in a proper relationship. But go ahead Ma, tell me I'm stupid for thinking that.”

Martha regarded him with mild shock, which was highly uncommon. It took alot to make Martha Kent shocked. A baby landed in a rocket on her farm and her reaction was to adopt him. Slowly though, her face morphed into a gentle smile. “My baby is in love.” She said softly.

“What?” Clark sputtered. “I’m not-” but he couldn’t finish the sentence, his face growing hot. 

Martha seemingly over the pull her seat had over her got up from her chair. “I'm going to make some tea, call Bruce down and we can all sit and chat.” She looked down at the floor before turning to him. “I want you to know I don't dislike Bruce, even when I said.” She waved her hand by her face, before shrugging. “It was just that I was worried about you and Cyrus, now I can see how much you adore him and I just need to make sure he feels the same.” She moved out of the room like a breeze, leaving Clark momentarily breathless. 

He was up the stairs in an instant, and opened the door slowly, to reveal a nearly asleep Bruce holding a fully asleep Cyrus. He half opened one eye when Clark walked in. “Good talk?” 

“You can say that.” He didn't know where to begin. He took two paces and sat on the edge of the bed. 

“I know I shouldn't tell you this, but the floors of this house are really thin.”

Clark felt a familiar heat in his face. “You didn't-”

 

“The whole thing. I tried to hum and drown it out, but you and Martha are both quiet loud.” He had a sheepish smile on his face, but his eyes dropped to the bed quickly.

“Bruce-”

“Don't.” He didn't seem mad, but his eyes betrayed a sadness that Clark wanted to make go away. “She’s a mother Clark. It’s her job to be worried about you. Anyway, we should head down stairs.” Gone were Bruce's sleepy features replaced by a look of steely determination. He loosened his arms and Cyrus bobbed just above his chest before slowly rising to the ceiling. Bruce got up and gave a small stretch. 

Surprisingly the conversation didn't go as horrifically as Clark had been expecting, in fact when they gone down to it, his mother and Bruce actually had a lot in common. Clark tried not to show too much confusion as certain traits of Bruce came to light, for instance that he could bake. This fact threw Clark so much he had to use his hand to cover the strange smile he made at the omission. Bruce gave him a side glance, his cheeks tinged pink whilst Martha dove whole heartedly into the subject leading the two to talk nonstop about how to make the perfect custard. 

Clark tuned most of it, not from lack of interest but due to the fact that he couldn’t understand half of what was being said. Something about a ban marie? He didn't know, so he let the two talk, and busied himself with making a fresh pot of tea from the table. 

When Cyrus started to stir, he excused himself, though Martha and Bruce barely turned his direction when he left the room. He hoped this wasn't an act on either of their parts, the last thing he wanted was a fake relationship to develop between the two. If anything he'd prefer the dislike, at least that would be honest. 

The door swung open and Clark went for Cyrus who was slowly descending back down to the bed, wobbling wildly on his descent. Clark had to give a small sigh of relief to that, he didn't like the idea of Cyrus plummeting if he was to wake up before he was able to grab him. 

Cyrus landed softly on the bed, rubbing his hands through the material gurgling as he drooled. Kon would not be happy with the fact that their would be baby drool on his sheets but hopefully he wouldn’t notice. 

He couldn't help but frown as he thought of Kon. He still hadn't returned home and Clark would be worried if he didn't have that small pulse in his mind that told him Kon was safe. He was far away, but he was safe. A few times he heard it increase, but nothing to lead Clark to believe he was in danger. Luckily Martha had not probed too much into why Kon had done his disappearing act, now however Clark needn't be coy. Having everything out in the open. 

That thought lifted a small weight from Clark, the giant hurdle that seemed impossible to jump over was behind him and all that lay ahead of him was the League. He knew he'd have to tell the them at some point, something like this could only go under the radar for so long. He thought about how they would react as he lifted Cyrus and let him rest against his neck, he was still drooling, but Clark's mind was a world away.

He wasn't worried about himself. He could safely say that in confidence. He didn't care if he joined Bruce as another sheep ostracised from the herd. It was Bruce he was worried for. He could barely stand when Perry told him an article wasn't up to scratch, he didn't want to consider what Bruce must go through at half the comments the League sent his way. They were petty, small things, but Clark heard most of them and didn't want to think what the added attention that their relationship would bring may cause. 

He sighed as he bobbed Cyrus slowly. Walking back down to the kitchen he didn't hear any talking and when he poked his head in he saw Martha alone, sipping tea. “Bruce had to take a call.” She said casually, as if Bruce was one to always take calls and Martha was always with him when he did.

Clark walked outside and thanks to Cyrus pointing and shouting ‘ba!’ spotted Bruce by the barn, pacing slowly, his hand held by his ear.

He was getting the tail end of the conversation as he approached Bruce. “-Yes, thank you Alfred. We’ll be there tonight. Bye.” He hung up and seemed even more tired than earlier. Clark tried to suppress his mother hen instincts but failed. 

“Bruce, please go take a nap. You look exhausted.” Clark tried to do his best puppy dog eyes, but judging by the hard look he got in response it wasn't working

“I'll sleep when I get back to the manor, first I need to talk to you.” Clark gave a nod but when Bruce didn't immediately speak, he looked down and noticed Cyrus was chewing on his shirt collar. His stare bore down on Cyrus, who looked back at him, eyes wide and dripping fabric hanging loosely in his mouth. “Remind me to buy a teething cloth for him.” Bruce said more to himself before he shook his head of the thought. “Anyway, you remember that event I’m organising that got you out of work? Turns out Luthor is going.”

Clark stood up straighter, his arms instinctively going tighter around Cyrus. Bruce took it in and softened his voice as a result. “I know what you’re thinking but it's actually a good thing. I think I could figure out where plan zeta is taking place from Luthor, but it will require a lot of coordination. We need to go back to the manor, the sooner the better.” 

Clark wasn't entirely thrilled of the prospect but knew better than to doubt Bruce. He went back into the house, and once Martha had said goodbye to him, Cyrus and Bruce, they were off, flying for Gotham.

Of course they were in Bruce’s plane, Clark looked out into the lush sky as they went and felt a slight pang at not being one with it, but quickly decided it was nicer to sit in the cockpit with Bruce. 

He flew steadily, never once taking his eyes off the sky ahead. Clark held Cyrus as they went, and before long Bruce broke the silence. “I'm going to be making a few calls when I get in. Now, I don't want you to thinking I don't trust you. Because I do. But, you have to admit, your poker face is not great. Especially around Luthor.” 

Clark wanted to disagree but couldn't. The amount of interviews he had to foist onto either Lois or one of the interns because just being in the same room as the man made his blood boil. He didn't speak and gave a noncommittal grunt. “Anyway.” Bruce continued. “I'm going to be organising the event, and I don't want you to listen in, in case for some reason you let on to Luthor something is up. It’s best if you’re unaware, that way your responses seem genuine.”

Clark blew a raspberry and at the noise Cyrus jolted, turning his head upwards. “You really think I'm that bad at acting, I pull off Clark Kent pretty well you know.”

Though facing forward Clark could see Bruce's small smirk. “True, but I still think it's for the best, there are sound proof areas of the cave I can go to make the calls, just don't focus on me to hard and you won’t overhear much.”

 

“That will be hard.” Clark said quietly, he chanced a look at Bruce and smiled when he saw Bruce's cheeks heat up.

“... Did you want me to call Alfred and get him preparing dinner?” He said with an air of mild awkwardness that Clark thought was endearing. 

“Nah, I can always make myself something. I don't want to put Alfred out.” He felt himself grin as he remembered. “Anyway, I should think you should be making dinner, Mr. ‘Went to culinary school’.”

 

Bruce's cheeks were on fire, and for the first time he chances a glance at Clark. “It was only a two week course, and-” He bit his lip. “It was just on desserts. I’m still bad at savoury.” 

Clark grinned. “Still, I want to eat something you made.” He winked. “Need to see how good you are.”

 

Bruce seemed to ponder, going quiet for a moment. “But you have.” 

“Huh?” Clark frowned, and turned to Bruce despite him not returning the look. “When?”

“You ate the walnut cake I made. I smelt it on your breath when you came to the cave.”

Clark didn't know what to be more impressed with, the fact that Bruce could pick up the smell of walnut on his breath or the fact he made the cake. He chose the latter. “You baked that? But you said Alfred-”

“I say Alfred does a lot of things.” Bruce said it like it was fact, and Clark didn't miss the way his eyes turned sad.

Clark thought for a moment, and before long turned an accusatory glance to Bruce. “Did you pack the duffle bag for me?” He remembered the note on top of it. He should have noticed it was in Bruce’s pen, in fact he was more annoyed with himself for not realising sooner.

Bruce didn't reply, but his silence was enough of an answer. Clark didn’t push, now wasn't the time. Bruce was flying a plane, and unable to look at him much less leave the conversation if it became too much. Clark occupied himself with entertaining Cyrus, who after sitting still for so long started to grumble. Clark bobbed his thigh, and before long they pulled into the Batcave.

When they got out of the plane, Bruce made a beeline for the computer stopping halfway there to turn around. “Clark.” He called out.

“Yeah?” Clark drifted down from the plane, not trusting himself with the tiny steps. Bruce paused.

“Is it okay if I take care of Cyrus for a while?” He seemed genuinely nervous and Clark felt an easy smile pull at his face.

“Sure, but won’t you be working? I don’t want him to be a distraction.” He looked down at Cyrus who was back to nibbling his shirt, he had a feeling it would become his unofficial teething cloth from now on. Shame, he kinda liked the shirt. It was the only one of Bruce’s that looked half decent on him. 

“No, on the contrary. He helps me focus.” He reached for him and Cyrus came easily, babbling continuous, and starting to gnaw on Bruce’s own shirt before giving up. Apparently his wasn’t the same as Clark's. 

“Alright, i'll go upstairs I guess. See if Alfred needs any help.” He gave a small wave to Cyrus, who returned it clumsily, his other hand jammed into his mouth.

“Thank you Clark.” Bruce moved forward, his lips gently touching Clark's cheek. “I'll come up when everything is sorted. I’ll even make you dinner.”

“I thought you said you were bad at cooking savoury?” 

Bruce smiled. “I didn't say it would be any good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always please comment and Kudos! I love talking with you guys in the comments, and hearing your thoughts! You are all awesome! Thank you for reading, and until next time! :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back, back, back, back again. Katflap's back, tell a friend~ 
> 
> Alright, I know I suck with updates... but work, combined with my own lack of self motivation is a deadly combination.
> 
> Also, I know exactly where I want to take this fic, and whilst I do know that, I realise I actually have to 'write' it and not just watch it in my mind cinema which, well, requires time and talent, two things I lack.
> 
> Anyway, here it is! Chapter 8! Enjoy~

Clark wasn't sure if he should’ve been annoyed or relieved that Bruce actually knocked together a decent meal. 

When Bruce walked into the kitchen and donned an apron, he sent a wink to Clark before starting his preparations. Alfred was close by helping to chop up ingredients and offering clipped words of advice, but for the most part he kept quiet and let Bruce do his own thing. Clark noticed the man's mouth open sometimes, as if wanting to say something about the way Bruce was using a metal spoon in a non-stick pan, but he decided against it. They could afford to buy new pans if need be.

When he was finished he set down the serving plates, one piled with baked chicken legs and another with pan fried potatoes and spinach. Clark piled his plate high and what he ate tasted so good, but knowing Bruce had cooked it, and getting to watch him as he did made it seem so much better. 

This did however rub salt in Clark’s wounds as he actually was a bad cook, unlike Bruce. Not set cereal on fire bad, but bad enough that Martha always made excuses if he offered her help, ‘It’s fine Clark, I can peel the potatoes’. 

You use laser vision ‘one’ time to do it and suddenly you’re exempt from all forms of kitchen assistance. 

It was relaxing watching him move around the kitchen as he ate, the hum of the extractor fan combining with the sounds of the sink flowing with water as Alfred got to work cleaning the pots and pans. Bruce himself seemed content as he wiped down the counters, occasionally looking at Clark, a shy smile on his face, and Clark would reply with a content hum of approval.

Cyrus got his slurry, and smacked his lips with each bite. His gaze kept going towards Bruce as he ate, grinning after he swallowed and mumbling a ‘ba’ to get Bruce’s attention if he wasn’t looking. Bruce would smile and Cyrus would clap before opening his mouth for the next bite. Apparently Clark wasn’t the only one to appreciate Bruce’s cooking. 

Bruce had come back up from the cave after a few hours of seemingly non stop talking. Clark had busied himself with cleaning, and any other chores Alfred could throw his way to try and drown him out. He did keep to his word though, ignoring Bruce’s voice in the cave as best as he could. He also heard Cyrus down there, occasionally gurgling or giving a half cry, only for Bruce to stop in the middle of whatever he was saying and comfort him. Aside from these moments though, Clark knew as much about what was happening tomorrow as Luthor himself. 

After cleaning the kitchen to a sufficient level, Bruce sat on the counter with his own plate, looking over to Clark who was still switching between feeding himself and Cyrus. It wound up becoming a lot like rubbing your stomach and patting your head, as at times Clark would get the spoon to his mouth only to find tepid mush and Cyrus would attempt to gnaw at the piece of chicken presented to him. “You alright there?” Bruce asked after seeing Clark do this for the third time. 

“Yeah Bruce i'm fine, just distracted I guess.” Watching Bruce cleaning the counters and humming quietly to himself was very distracting. Now having to sit across from him and watch him eat his dinner... Clark managed to catch himself before the fork connected with his chin. Again.

Bruce was quiet over dinner, watching Cyrus with tired eyes. Cyrus himself looked back, and occasionally down at himself, perhaps wondering why he was being stared at with no hint of wavering. It didn't take him long for him to grin and rub his tummy again as Bruce watched, mumbling ba’s as Clark tried to get him to eat the rest of his food. With a smile Bruce lent on the counter, his head resting on his hand. “He is very smart.”

“He gets it from me.” Clark exhaled, nodding slowly. 

Bruce huffed a laugh. “Right. Sure he-.” A yawn cut him off, to which like a dog responding to the word treat made Alfred's head snap around. 

“Master Bruce, did you sleep at all when you were at the Kent residence?” He asked quietly attempting an air of disinterest that didn't take much deduction to realise was a total farce.

“Yeah.” Bruce said absently, his eyes darting up to Alfred's downcast ones.

Clark couldn't help but frown. “No you didn't.”

Clark wanted to say he was taken aback by the glare sent his way, but he couldn't say he was surprised. He pressed his mouth into a firm line. “You said you'd sleep when you got back to the manor.” Clark offered meekly. 

Alfred apparently unperturbed by Bruce's attempted lie merely started drying the pots with a towel. “An excellent suggestion Mister Kent. Which is exactly what I think he should do.” His eyes narrowed a fraction. “You have to sleep Master Bruce.” 

“Fine.” Bruce took off his apron and placed it on the counter with more force than required, and perhaps realising this he folded it up and set it back down. “I'll be upstairs, wake me if needed.”

“Of course Master Bruce.” Alfred said, his gaze back to its usual passive state. As he approached the counter, lifting the now empty plates he gave a look to Cyrus. “Might I suggest the young Master be put down for bed as well?”

Clark was about to object as Cyrus had already slept half the day away, but apparently the evening meal combined with a whirlwind day of sleeping and eating were taking its toll, as his eyes kept fluttering closed only to open abruptly in mild surprise. “Maybe you’re right Alfred.” He stood up, and joined Bruce by the door.

The last remnants of sunlight had retreated behind the clouds, leaving the hallways of the manor dimly lit. Bruce moved through the space effortlessly, practically gliding. His footsteps echoed across the wooden floors, only dampened when they came into contact with the numerous rugs. Clark himself chose to float behind, not trusting himself to not bump into one of the many podiums holding vases that Clark could only assume were worth more than his flat, contents included. 

“I can take him to his room if you want.” Bruce said quietly. He was stood atop the stairs leaving Clark to look up at him. 

“Naw, it's alright. I'm pretty beat too to be honest.” Clark rose up a few more steps to reach Bruce's level. When they made their way to Bruce’s door, they paused outside of it. “Sorry about ratting you out to Alfred.” Clark offered, his face trying to seem apologetic. 

Bruce shrugged. “It's fine. Even if you hadn't have told him, he has his ways of working information out of me.”

Clark could believe that. Martha had the same power over him. “Really? Seems like Alfred should be the detective talking to bad guys then. He could get them to admit to anything” He smiled and bumped his elbow to Bruce's.

“I think the skin tight suit put him off.” Bruce offered, his lip curling up at one side. His hand snaked to the door handle and fiddled with the shining metal. Between pursed lips he spoke. “Well, I guess i'll see you tomorrow?” 

Clark gave a nod. “See you then.” He leant forward, his lips lips barely pressing against Bruce's. “Sleep well Bruce.” He made to turn away, but before he could Bruce murmured; 

“Unless…” 

He paused. “Unless..?” He could feel the gentle puffs of Bruce’s breath which then turned into a long sigh. 

“Nothing, I-.” He frowned. “I don't know what I was going to say.” 

Clark leant back, getting a better look at Bruce. “You know we don't have to do anything.” He let one hand rise and hang onto the hem of Bruce’s shirt. “We can just sleep together. No-” He raised his other hand and wiggled it excessively. 

Bruce seemed to consider his words. “That's what I'm afraid of.”

“Why?” 

“I'm not exactly a peaceful sleeper Clark. What if I wake you up in the night?” 

Clark locked his eyes with his. “Bruce if you get a nightmare, I want you to wake me up. I don't want you dealing with that alone.”

He couldn't tell if it was his expression or his words, but Bruce eyes blew wide. “Really?”

“Of course.” Another kiss. This one firmer than the last. “Come on.” He reached and opened the door before Bruce grabbed his arm. 

“Aren't you forgetting something?” He said, a small smile on his lips. Clark looked down and Cyrus looked up. 

“I don't think he would mind.”

Bruce turned to look into the darkened space behind him a mix of anticipation and fear falling on his features. He turned back around and gently pulled Clark inside. “Okay, just-” he shrugged, letting Clark find his own way inside. 

After the door was closed, the lack of light threw Clark and he had to advance his vision just to see Bruce slip across the room, pulling off his dress shirt and lowering his pants. He reached into the drawer and pulled out his night clothes before looking back towards Clark. “Did you need pyjamas or?”

“I usually sleep in my underwear.” He answered, but when he noticed Bruce's lips purse, he added. “But if you want me-”

“No, as long as you're comfortable.” He opened another drawer and pulled out a small onesie. And Clark couldn't help but smirk at it.

“You know he's gonna grow out of these before he can get round to wearing them all.” He placed Cyrus on the bed and watched at Bruce slowly pulled off his tiny clothes, he wriggled as Bruce tried to put him in the onesie but once in, his hands ran across the soft fabric. “I wish I could read his mind…”

“You know, we know a mind reader.” Bruce offered as he lifted Cyrus back up.

“I was kidding, but now that you mention it...” He had to wonder how that conversation would go down. ‘J'onn read my infant child's mind, I wanna know what he’s thinking’. Clark could only guess it was less like a coherent script and more like the deranged ramblings of a drunk, with lots of ‘food’, ‘moo moo’ and ‘ba’s’ repeated over and over. 

Bruce walked towards the bed and Clark gave a small frown. “Do you think he'll be okay sleeping in the bed with us? I don't want him getting crushed.” 

A curious look appeared on Bruce's face. “Well when i've napped with him in the past he's been okay. He’s also you’re clone and considering you can walk on the sun I’m sure sleeping in bed with us won’t hurt him.”

Clark nodded slowly before seeming to hear what Bruce said.“You've napped with him?”

“Sure.” He shrugged pulling down the sheets and working his way under. “He's a good napping buddy.” Perhaps understanding the compliment Cyrus grinned before patting on the blanket in front of him, his eyes trained on Clark. “Are you going to get into bed or are you just going to stand there and sleep?” Bruce asked, a mirth filled smirk on his face. 

“Well if you insist.” He ran his hands over his shirt and pulled it over his head, before working his jeans down as well, he tried not to look at Bruce as he did, knowing full well his gaze was on him. He felt his cheeks burn, and prayed to God that other parts of his body weren't showing a similar reaction. He quickly went under the duvet, turning towards Bruce. “Night night Bruce.” He leant forward and kissed Cyrus’s mop of hair. “Night night sunshine.” 

Bruce lay down onto the bed as well, moving Cyrus to lay across his chest, his hands gently wrapping over him. In little time Clark could hear the slowing of his heart and the way his body gently rose with only Bruce’s hands keeping him from lifting fully off. 

Whilst Clark himself felt the pulls of sleep drawn him in, he couldn't help but listen to Bruce's own breathing and heart and the way it seemed to remain the same speed with no signs of slowing. In a haze of near sleep, Clark rose his hand and placed it across Bruce's stomach, just under where Cyrus’s feet lay. The effect at first was a hike in the number of beats, but as Clark finally drifted off he could feel Bruce doing much the same. 

When he next woke, it was to a string of quiet mumbles, rustling sheets and rapid breaths. Clark cracked his eyes open and saw Cyrus’s wide eyes on him, and when he seemed to sense Clark’s confused stare his mumbling increased as did his wiggles atop Bruce. Clark followed his gaze to Bruce's open mouth and closed eyelids, fluttering quickly. He was silent for the most part occasionally a noise escaping the back of his throat, but as his mouth opened, as if to speak it clamped back in on itself.

The movement was repeated several times, and mesmerized by it, Clark only looked on, even Cyrus stilled as his head lolled to the side and he peered up at Bruce's restless face. It was like a storm off in the distance, whatever danger there was seemed far off and inconsequential.

Which meant when Bruce's eyes burst open and a half formed yelled erupted from him Clark himself seized for a moment before he leapt forward, placing a hand over Bruce's hammering heart. Cyrus let out a cry as he was slid down by Bruce's convulsion, resting now on his stomach.

“Bruce. Hey hey Bruce. I'm right here.” 

“Clark. What- Where-” For lack of another option Clark moved Cyrus from his position low on Bruce's stomach back to where he was laying moments ago by the curves of Bruce's collar bone. Cyrus seemed thankful for his placement as his arms raised and made contact with the bare skin around Bruce's neck his hands making clumsy swiping motions. The tears fell but Bruce brought his arms around Cyrus. “I-” He didn't go on, his throat seeming to constrict. 

“Hey.” He tried to keep his voice soothing, but he could feel his own heart pounding hard. “It's alright Bruce, you don't need to talk right now. Just breathe. It was just a nightmare. I’m right here and so is Cyrus.”

For several minutes there was only silence aside from laboured breathing and Cyrus’s mutterings, before long though Bruce's heart seemed to slow and his face relaxed by a fraction. “I dreamt they found him.” Bruce offered quietly. His hands rubbing against Cyrus, eliciting more soft ba’s. “We tried to keep him safe, but they-”

“That's not going to happen.” Clark interrupted, his hand on Bruce becoming firm. “Cadmus would have to get through me to get to Cyrus.” 

Fresh tears sprung out and Bruce bit his lip. “Exactly.”

Clark frowned. 

“They-” He gulped down the saliva pooling in his mouth. “They killed you and got Cyrus. I couldn't stop them and-” 

“Okay, let me rephrase.” He leant in close his head hovering by Bruce’s ensuring his eyes were on him. “I would do everything in my power to keep you two safe. Even if I had to-” The unspoken promise hung in the air and the ambivalence on Bruce’s face was evident. He shook his head, but there was no defiance in the action.

“I....” He murmured, bringing a hand to touch Clark’s cheek. “Just-” He guided Clark to his mouth, his lips grazing against his.

Clark didn't need to be told twice, his mouth bore into Bruce's, but there was little fire in the motion, and Clark for the life of him couldn’t remember having a more earnest kiss.

Bruce pushed him back ever so slightly, his body seeming to loosen. “Don't go anywhere.” He muttered. 

“Wouldn't dream of it.” He kissed Bruce on the nose. “Now go back to bed, i’m gonna be right here when you wake up.” 

And as though his words were a powerful sedative, Clark watched as Bruce's eyes closed and his breathing evened out. He lay back down and couldn’t help but smile as he too drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you guys tell I love domestic Bruce/Clark? 
> 
> I can't say when the next chapter will be out, but thank you all for your patience in waiting for this one. You are all awesome. As always comment and Kudos! you guys reading this are pretty much my only motivation for finishing it. Till next time~


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *flops onto the floor* 
> 
> Hey all, know its been a while, but here is Chapter 9. Hope you enjoy! :)

The morning felt surprisingly normal considering he was lying in bed next to his infant clone and Bruce Wayne.

He couldn’t deny that there was a certain sense of rightness when he slowly drifted into consciousness and felt Bruce’s firm body pressed beside him and Cyrus wiggling his way across to Clark. How Bruce managed to keep a hold of Cyrus whilst he slept was beyond him, he half expected to be woken up with a baby landing on his stomach. 

He sat up slowly bringing his arms around Cyrus as he did. He gurgled quietly as Clark yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Cyrus himself seemed wide awake, mumbling as Clark tried to get himself to that point of wide eyed hopefulness which he and most other adults struggled to achieve before a morning cup of coffee. He listened for Bruce’s heartbeat, still beating slowly in the midst of sleep and eased himself off of the bed as quietly as he could. Even still, Bruce turned in his sleep, his hand reaching for the space where Clark once lay.

It must have been early than he thought, as there was no one in the kitchen when he made his way down there. It took him a tad longer, as watching Bruce sleep was a strangely attention grabbing experience, and if it wasn't for Cyrus swatting him he would have been there a lot longer. 

The kitchen was still cool from the night, the curtains drawn tight. Clark pulled them open and let the light flood in and like a glass of ice water, Clark felt the final tendrils of sleep leave him and he grinned down at Cyrus. “Wanna surprise ba, sunshine?” 

Clark didn’t know if Cyrus gathered the meaning of his words, or simple heard ba and grinned in response, but the smile was all he needed for encouragement and he quickly started work. 

He placed Cyrus in his high chair and attempted to familiarise himself with the kitchen. From watching Bruce cook yesterday he found where a few things were kept but for the most part he was going in blind. He managed to find a few frying pans that didn't look like they were removed from an Edwardian museum and upon opening the fridge he found some eggs and other things Clark had only ever seen in the fancy section of Whole Foods. He knew french toast wasn't up there with souffles for complexity, but he didn't know how to make souffles. He did however know how to make the best french toast in the world. 

He got to work, cracking eggs into a bowl and whisking in milk and sugar. He threw in some spices before cutting up slices of bread and soaking them in it. Cyrus watched as he worked, thankfully not being able to say much when Clark inevitable broke something. 

It was just a whisk. He could buy Bruce a new one. Possibly... If he remembered.

When the first slice hit the frying pan Alfred walked in, not at all phased by the sight of Superman making french toast in his kitchen with his clone sitting in a high chair. He merely walked past Clark to the kettle and put it on. “Morning Alfred.” 

Alfred nodded, leaning against the kitchen counter. Apparently not awake enough yet to bother with words.

When the water heated, Alfred poured it into a mug and made his way out of the room, pausing briefly by the door. “He likes it best with stewed fruit.” He said, and despite the apparent sleep in his voice he still sounded better than Clark did 90 percent of the time. One of the perks of the British accent he supposed. 

Clark nodded into the now empty space. He moved to the fridge and pulled out the pullets of fruit from inside. 

By the time everything was cooked he heard Bruce stir upstairs. He tried not to get giddy as he heard him rise from bed and amble down, but he couldn’t help it. Cyrus too seemed aware of Bruce being up as the moment he raised from bed, Clark watched his head dart up and stare at the ceiling with unbridled interest. By the time Bruce walked in, Clark was grinning like an idiot. “Surprise!” Which is exactly how Bruce responded, his eyes mere moments ago clouded with sleep, now opened wide, a look of quiet awe on his face.

“You made breakfast?” He asked as he approached the counter.

“Yup. French toast and stewed fruit.” He beamed as he set the plate down in front of where Bruce stood. “Thought it was the least I could do to say thanks for cooking yesterday and french toast is one of the few things I know how to cook.” 

Bruce sat down at the counter, but he didn’t start eating, watching Clark keenly as he spoke. “You didn’t have to make breakfast,” he said. “You’re a guest here, Clark.” 

Clark shrugged as he flipped over the toast. “If i’m gonna be living here Bruce, I can’t be a ‘guest’ forever, I wanna help out. Seems only right.”

That seemed to placant Bruce as Clark began to hear the quiet clinking of cutlery as he cooked his own toast. It wasn’t long though before he heard a familiar grumbling as well. He turned around and poked Cyrus. “Patience Cy, yours is coming.” He pulled the pot of simmering oatmeal from the hob and poured it into the bowl, as well as a good helping of stewed fruit on top. “Bruce don’t suppose you could feed him, just until the toast is done.” It was nearly there, one of two more minutes. Despite having super speed on his side, food always seemed to burn whilst it was in Clark’s vicinity. 

Bruce nodded and put his fork down, moving seats to be closer to Cyrus’s high chair. He put the first spoonful by his lips and Cyrus ate it quickly, clapping his hands whilst Bruce got him another. “He’s not wiggling as much whilst he eats…” He said as he fed Cyrus. It was true, the high chair was barely tottering as he ate, and Clark wasn’t needed to act as sentient straight jacket. 

“He’s probably just learning how strong he is Bruce. You said it yourself he’s a smart baby.” As he set his own plate down he noticed Bruce’s lips were still drawn. He gave a sigh, about to continue when Bruce’s stare caught his. 

“We’re meant to inject him tomorrow and with the party tonight, I just-” He slumped forward and rested his head on his hand, though the other still diligently fed Cyrus. 

“Look Bruce, I can always inject him this time, and I doubt the party will be that bad. Just schmooze Lex and do your-” he wiggled his fingers. “You know, bat thing, and we’ll be good to go.” 

He shook his head slowly. “I know I said it would be best for you to be unaware of what’s happening tonight, but I really wish you were aware of what was going to happen tonight.” 

Clark snorted, chewing on a bite of toast. “Well that’s ominously cryptic.” 

Having come to the end of the bowl, Bruce set the spoon down and went back to his own food, though that apparently meant just poking it a few times in disinterest. “I just mean, I want to talk to you about it, but I know I can’t.” 

“You could. I won’t tell.” Clark said with a wink, and loved the way it made Bruce's eyes crease with a smile. 

“I know… But… When it happens you’ll know why. Just…” He furrowed his brows in concentration. “Just roll with it.” 

“Just roll with it.” He set his fork down. “That’s your advice for me.”

Bruce smirked. “Well I could be even more cryptic if you like, how does; the more you roll, the less you move, sound?” 

“Sounds great. I feel so prepared.” He dead panned, though that didn't deter Bruce who just laughed. 

“Anyway, whilst I remember, there is actually something we need to do before the party.” He got up and made his way around the counter to where Clark sat, resting his hands on his shoulders. “We need to figure out what Mr. Kent will be wearing for this party.” 

“And I take it you have some ideas?” 

“Just some.” He said evenly.

Clark sighed. “Alright Bruce, what have you got?” 

He should have know it would go like this, but somehow ending up in Bruce's room trying on a cavalcade of suits one after the other was not what his brain had in mind for what he was going to do today. It was time spent with Bruce and Cyrus, so he couldn’t complain. But half of that time was being spent looking at himself in a mirror, an expression of mild horror on his face. 

“Oh Lord…” Clark muttered as he stared at his reflection. He looked, well he looked great, amazing even, and that was the issue. “Bruce, if Clark Kent showed up to a party looking like this, I’d get more than just a few, ‘gee you look alot like Superman’s.” Even with his trademark specs on and the hunch in his shoulders, he couldn’t kid himself. He looked like a shy Armani model.

Bruce made a face as he approached, Cyrus reclined in one of his arms playing with a small turtle plushie Clark had never seen before. Bruce pulled at the collar of Clark’s jacket as if the inch it was out of place by would fix the problem. “I think you look fine.”

“Exactly Bruce.” He opened up the jacket and pulled the shirt loose from his pants, trying to hide the clearly labeled designer on his belt. “I need to look like i’m on a reporter's salary. Not that I’m a part time model.” He gave a resolute nod. “I’m going with the tweed.”

“No.” 

“Bruce.”

“You looked hideous in that thing.” Bruce seemed to sense the losing battle in front of him and his eyes darted to the other suit hanging behind Clark. “”What about the periwinkle?” He lay Cyrus down on the comforter allowing him to better naw on the now saliva soaked turtle. “That one's not totally heinous, but it still screams ‘I have no idea what subtlely means’.” He brought the suit down and held it in front of Clark to better see it in the mirror.

“It still looks too fancy.” He pushed the suit away, and looked down at his own one on the floor. Clark brought it on a whim as he walked down one of the many side streets in Metropolis. In a local thrift store, there it stood in all of its mustard yellow glory. It was twenty dollars and since then it has seen Clark through fundraisers and meetings alike. Lois had made it her duty to see it burned at the first opportunity, and sadly it seemed Bruce was having the same thought. “Come on Bruce. Whenever I wear that people are so busy looking at the suit they don’t even see my face.” 

It was rather adorable seeing the sheer loathing Bruce had for the suit currently lying half crumpled by the foot of the bed. Neither had seen to folding it, Clark due to wanted to add to its charm and Bruce for lack of wanting to even touch it. He sighed, the logic of Batman telling his to agree with Clark but the lust of Brucie wanting him in the pinstripe. “But I think the-” 

“Bruce, I can’t, it’s Ralph-”

He huffed. “They won't know it’s Ralph Lauren.” 

“It looks too good!” To illustrate, he spread his arms and let Bruce look at the now slightly disheveled suit. He tried not to smirk at the slight dusting of pink now on Bruce’s cheeks. “Bruce trust me.” He shrugged off the jacket and placed it on the bed beside Cyrus.

For a while neither spoke as Clark took off the suit and pulled on the tweed. Bruce’s stare revealed nothing but a quiet contempt as he did, but eventually even he couldn't deny the seemingly magical power of the suit. Not only was the colour just vile, but the fabric bagged at Clark’s midsection and shoulders, giving the illusion of a child in his father's clothing. “Okay. fine.” He picked up the jacket and hung it up before moving to where Cyrus was crawling along the bed. He lifted him easily into his arms.

“Who’s gonna take care of Cy whilst we’re out? Alfred?”

“No. Alfred’s busy tonight. Do you think Martha can take him?” 

Clark nodded with little restraint. “Of course. In fact I know she’d love to.”

“Alright, well get ready. I’ve arranged for a cab to pick you up from Gotham heights hotel, which, might I add, you have been staying in the past two days.” He looked pointedly at Clark. “Be outside at 19:15 sharp and get in the cab and say ‘the weather looks decent’ and wait until they say ‘unusual for August.’ Then shut the door and let them drive.”

“What.” Clark shook his head. “Why-”

“It’s just to make sure it's not a random cabby, I’ve planned out everything Clark, down to the second, and the last thing I need is a Gotham caby tunneling you because you’re from out of town, and you end up late with a 100 dollar fee to pay.”

“You’ve thought of everything haven’t you…” He leant forward, his lips brushing against Bruce’s nose. The pink on his cheeks was still there and Clark wanted it to stay. 

“It is both my talent and my curse.” He said with a wry smile, his free hand coming up to rest on Clark’s chest. 

“Naw. Just your talent. You’re so smart Bruce. So smart and pretty.”

“Pretty?” Bruce murmured, his mouth so close to Clark’s he could feel his breath dust across his lips. “I thought roguishly handsome suited me better.”

“Well both suit you just fine.” And like a magnet pulling Clark kissed him, his lips playing against Bruce’s before he felt Cyrus cling onto the front of his shirt. He pulled away and laughed, easing Cyrus into his arms and pecking Bruce again. “I think he knows what he’s up to when he does things like this.”

“Possibly.” Bruce said. “Though I doubt it’s as clean cut as; dad is getting hot and heavy best be cute to distract him and more, I want attention. Give me attention.” 

“Hot and heavy?” Clark smirked

“Would you prefer if I said horny?” and God if Bruce saying that word didn’t do just that. 

“You know it should be illegal for you to talk dirty when i’m holding our baby.” Clark said, his voice dipping low. However, he wasn’t greeted with a sly smile in return from Bruce, and instead received a fragile one. 

“Our baby?” Bruce asked in a whisper.

Clark came forward lifting Cyrus ever so slightly to rest between them. “Well yeah Bruce, you’re his dad just as much as I am.” 

The room went silent as Bruce seemed lost in his own mind, after a minute he let out a huff of laughter. “I would have never thought this would be possible…” He said quietly. “You and me. A baby. This is just-” He smiled. 

“I know, Bruce.” He leant close. “I know.” 

Bruce wiped his hand across his eyes but still smiled softly at Clark. Whilst it was becoming more common to see; Bruce's smile was still as beautiful as ever. “We should get ready, we have to leave soon.” He said, though from the fact he didn’t move it was clear he didn’t want to.

They did eventually, however. With Clark having to fly Cyrus quickly to Ma’s and head back to the manor to change. By the time he rolled up to the hotel his stomach was a bundle of nerves. He had no idea what to expect tonight, but according to Bruce. He just had to roll with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Totally didn't mean to let 4 months go by without updating, but this year is just flying for some reason. 
> 
> Anyway, I want to thank all of you for your wonderful comments and Kudos. It really does fuel me and seeing how into this fic most of you are means I'm not going to give up on it. I may update at a snails pace, but I will update! Please keep commenting, I love hearing what you guys think and its always nice to have a chat with you ;) 
> 
> Till next time! :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I renamed the fic. The title always bothered me, so I was like, eh, lets change it! Also been fiddling about with earlier chapters too, tweaking bits here and there that I wasn't too happy with. But yeah, here is chapter 10! I hope you enjoy! :D :D

Despite how little of an effect it would have on his body, Clark gulped down the closest alcoholic beverage he could find when he walked into the party. His body felt charged, the environment he was in was not one he usually went into voluntarily. Woman brushed past him like trusted up swans and the men gave him half glares for his presence alone.

 

It was blatantly obvious he didn't belong. In a sea of couture he was the bargain basement knockoff. He could feel the stares of nearby party goers. But at a quick glance he knew their stares weren't revealing; none showed even the barest hint of recognition. No, in fact from what he could gather they were all thinking the same thing; Good God, what is that man wearing, and why the hell is he here. 

He allowed himself a small smile at that realization. Suit; one, Bruce; nil. Of course, his own abilities of camouflage were to credit as well. He walked around with a slight gait, and moved his arms like an alien who only started inhabiting the body of a human mere moments ago. He knew how to make himself unremarkable, yet memorable. No one saw Superman, yet everyone saw a socially inept reporter. 

 

Moving around the room he tried to gleen some baseless info from some of the guests. He asked what their opinions of the charity were, and if they felt it would truly help the orphan problems within Gotham. Most, if not all, responded with the same blank stare, as if the prospect of the party being for more than drinking alcohol was incomprehensible. 

 

Amongst the sea of faces, he never once saw Bruce, apparently waiting for the right moment to make his grand entrance. He did however, bump into Lex. It was less of a casual accident, and more of a targeted procedure, with Lex spotting the reporter from across the room and making a beeline for him. Clark attempted an air of casualness, but acting around Lex was never his strong point and Lex gave a small laugh as he approached. “Well if it isn't the Daily Planet's golden boy.” He stopped in front of Clark and gave him a slow once over. “Quite a distance for you to come isn't it Kent? Or are you now sticking your nose into Bruce’s business rather than mine?” 

 

It was remarkable how Lex managed a voice that conveyed mild mannered yet dripped with barely contained malice. Clark gave a timid nod and cleared his throat. “Well Lex, I could ask you the same thing. My sources say that your appearance at this party was rather last minute.” Clark let his eyes narrow just barely. 

 

Lex rolled his eyes. “Please Kent, you can't really expect to sell many papers if your front page story is ‘Lex Luthor decides to go to party.’

 

“Well, that's as may be but I highly doubt you came here so last minute for no other reason than to spend the night in Gotham.”

 

Lex gave a mild shrug. “You've caught me Kent, i'm here to check up on some investments aswell.” He leant ever so slightly forward. “Have a good evening.” He promptly left, leaving Clark to frown into the empty space. His eyes followed Lex as he made his way across the room but before what rage he was feeling could come to the forefront of his mind the foyer doors flung open and a familiar face came into view. 

 

It was quite a sight, Bruce looked nothing like himself and yet exactly as Clark remembered before leaving for the party. It was as if his entire body radiated an entirely different energy. His face conveyed a smug yet charming smile and the women around him swarmed with the same restless movements of bees in a hive. The room seemed to register their appearance before returning to their own conversations, leaving Lex to approach Bruce. 

 

If it were possible, Lex's voice had moved passed merely being ‘forced’ and well into ‘being held at gunpoint’. Clark could practically hear the unnatural smile from where he stood. “Bruce! Good to see you.” Clark could see from his vantage point across the room how Lex’s hand darted out from beside him. He held in front of Bruce who simply grinned and slapped it. 

“Well, hello there Lexy. I can’t say the same. Still fucking Metropolis with your robot police?” And before even finishing, Bruce was already trying to get the attention of the near by waitress who quickly approached holding out her tray and allowing Bruce to lift up two of the glasses. He winked at the woman before sucking one glass back in long pulls, once finished he turned his attention back to Lex. “Now that hits the spot. Drink one Lex, it’ll put hairs on your chest, though we can all pray it will put some on your head.” The two women still by Bruce giggled as they leant their heads to rest on his shoulders. The waitress stood, holding out the tray to Lex, who eventually took one though with some reluctance. 

 

“Very droll Bruce.” His voice dripped as he spoke, and the women's smiles fell from their faces quickly. The waitress moved away, though not before catching Clark’s eye, he could have sworn he’d recognized her but before he could think where from she was lost in the crowd. Bruce’s companions unhooked themselves from him, and quickly left to rejoin the rest of the group. Clark felt himself moving closer ready to act if needed. 

 

“Look Lex, i’m here to have a good time, get drunk, get laid, so unless you're volunteering for the later im not intrested.”

 

Lex gave a laugh that sounded more like snapped exhales of air. “You and your wit Bruce, you must be careful what you end up saying to people. You never know how they'll react.” Lex’s voice went lower as he pressed in closer to Bruce, who didn't move an inch.

“Whoa, are you threatening me? Or are you coming onto me?” 

 

Lex rolled his eyes. “Neither. I’m merely stating fact.” And like placing on a mask, what little anger was on Lex's face was gone, replaced with a demure smile. “You know Bruce, with my business acumen and your reputation we could accomplish great things.”

 

Bruce seemed to consider what was said before shrugging. “I get what you’re saying.”

“You do?” Lex looked mildly impressed. 

 

“Yeah, you wanna do it. Which is fine Lex, you don’t have to be all smoke and mirrors. I respect honesty and-”

 

“-That.” Lex allowed himself a look of pure horror. “That is not at all what I was implying.”

 

“Oh?” Bruce said, and Clark had to laugh at the disappointed tone he held.

“No. Dear God no…” He shook his head. “I was implying a business proposition, perhaps a linking of some kind.”

 

“Oh!” Bruce said, his eyes blown wide. He managed a look of mild embarrassment though it was soon swallowed by a massive grin. “That is a relief. I totally thought you wanted to you know-” he gave a dramatic sigh. “I mean, i’m not gonna lie, I am disappointed but even I cannot have everything…” 

 

Lex didn't speak, instead clearing his throat. Bruce seemed to frown at the gesture before Lex’s question seemed to register in his mind. “Oh! And no. I don’t want to join with you Lex, at least not in a business sense.” He gave an exaggerated wink, and leant close, a breathy laugh escaping him and judging by how Lex pulled back it did not smell good. 

 

Clark himself had no idea how Lex was keeping what little cool he had under control. If he was in his position he wouldn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Bruce…” He said evenly. “I know now is not a perfect time to discuss matters-” and as if sensing his stare he turned, his eyes boring into Clark's, who quickly averted his stare trying to make his sudden fascination with the floor look natural. “-But please keep my idea in mind, I think you'd be interested in knowing some of the new work we’re doing at Lexcorp. You never know, it may even help with your own problems.”

 

“Sure Lex, whatever you say.” With a nod, Bruce turned and walked, though not before casting his eyes back to Lex. “Just make sure to keep my proposition in mind too.” And with a cackle Bruce approached his earlier menagerie and draped himself over two of them. “Miss me ladies?”

 

What was said next was lost in a sea of giggles and sighs, though Clark heard a distinct sigh of frustration come from Lex before he too rejoined the party, though with much less gusto than Bruce.

 

It was a hell of a show, Clark would give Bruce that. He almost wished he could have recorded it, but atleast he got to witness it first hand. He sighed and sat down at one of the tables and cast a look to the person beside him before recognition set in. “Tim?” He blurted out as the other typed on his phone, briefly looking up before registering Clark and smiling. 

 

“Oh hey Clark.” He said mildly, as if his presence was not out of the ordinary. “How are you?” He asked, putting his phone away. 

“Good.” He nodded. “How about you?”

 

“Can’t complain.” He gave a small shrug. “I mean when dad decides to pull me out of school for a party I can only assume he’s got something fun planned.”

 

Clark frowned. “I see.” He drummed his fingers on the table surface, and regarded Tim casually. “So did he tell you what's going to happen?”

 

Tim shook his head. “Kinda.” He pulled out his phone again and quickly glanced at it. “I’m just sort of here as a backup.”

 

“Right…” Clark pursed his lips, having learnt nothing more than he already did. Tim turned his attention back to his phone and Clark himself cast his eyes out onto the open ball room and occasionally caught glimpses of Bruce. He had to fight the urge to get up and speak to him but he knew it would be Brucie he’d have the pleasure of speaking too and somehow that didn't seem like something he’d want to expose himself to. 

 

As if sensing his dilemma Tim raised his head and caught who Clark's attention was on. He gave a small smile. “At least try to hid your pining, Clark.”

 

Clark’s cheeks flushed pink as he glancing at Tim. “I wasn't pining.” He said before clearing his throat.

 

“Please.” Tim leant forward. “If there is one thing I know about you Kent’s is that you pine, and you're really obvious about it. I mean I would tell you to do something about it but I hear you already have.”

 

Clark blush deepened. “Who-”

 

“Kon. He came to my dorm and told me.” Tim eyes caught a loose thread on the white linen cloth, he reached for it and began pulling it slowly. “I know it’s not any of my business, but I would have thought dad would have told me when he called.” He gave a dry laugh. “You know most kids get a ‘how’s school going? how are you?’ when their dads call, I get a thirty minute speech about this party, and what my part in all of it is. I really hate it sometimes.” He pulled the thread roughly, snapping it and leaving an unsightly snag where it once was.

 

“Tim.” Clark offered softly, darting his eyes around on the lookout for any errant listeners. Luckily they were pretty isolated on this half of the room, with everyone else on the dance floor. A few other sat at the tables, but all were engrossed in their own conversations. “I’m sure Bruce was going to tell you. I doubt he would want to tell you something like that over the phone.” 

 

“I guess.” He said quietly. “He’s just so hard to read sometimes, but i’m sure you’re well aware of that.”

 

Clark gave a nod. “Indeed I am.” He put his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “Bruce cares about you all so much. I think it terrifies him, the idea of you hating him.”

 

“I could never hate him.” Tim said quietly. “I can get annoyed at him, sure, but I couldn't hate him. Even Jason for all his bravado wants Bruce to be proud of him. I know he’s a total asshole about it most of the time, but still…” He sighed. “Ah well, I know my family has problems but I wouldn't trade it.”

 

Clark smiled. “I’m glad.”

 

Tim smiled.“Anyway, enough of the pity party. I better mingle. Don't want people thinking the third Wayne is as bratty as the second.” He got up. “Catch you later Clark.” He tucked his phone away in his jacket and approached a crowd of younger looking guests, whom Tim managed to slip into easily. 

 

Now at a loss for what to do Clark got up walked over to the canape table and loaded up his plate. The food at least was good and he found himself eating straight from the table, much to the annoyance of other guests. After one too many glares in his direction, he filled up his plate and went back to the table. He could occasionally see Bruce and Tim throughout the crowd, but aside from Tim giving him a small smile at one point, he was left alone. If this had been a serious event he may have considered doing a bit more interviewing, but whatever he had to write for the Planet he could essentially make up. No one was gonna read it anyway.

 

Well, that was what he thought right up until the moment that the glass ceiling shattered, raining down on all those on the dance floor.

 

A burst of panic welled up from those under the spray of glass, and before long two brightly coloured women jumped down into the chaos. They landed with a loud crash, and through the screams and gasps of confusion one spoke up.

 

“Alright bozos! Hand ups and me and Ivy here won’t have to hang any of ya from the celin’!” 

 

Harley held her bat like a gun as she pointed it at people, some shied away from it as if it could actually shoot bullets. “Ivy, you tell em what we want!” She turned to the woman currently standing high on the drinks table, now with more glass on it than drinkable beverages, her hand merely twitched and soon the floor was alive with small vines.

 

“Everyone hand over your valuables and we won't-” 

“Hey!” Bruce burst from the crowd, wobbling wildly as he did. “The strippers were for the after party, not now!” He crossed his arms and Clark had to stop from smiling as the small throng of not entirely stupid guests rolled there eyes. Clark got up from his seat and moved slowly towards gathering of guests.

 

“Strippers?” Harley scoffed. “Please hun, even you couldn't pay me enough to see these.” She shook her chest in his direction. “No, we’re the real thing. Show him Ivy!” Harley jumped to the side and like a tiger being released from a cage, a vine rushed forward and slammed against Bruce, wrapping quickly around his torso. Clark tried to keep himself calm, but couldn't help the small gasp he let out.

 

Bruce strained against the green expanse of vine, but soon gave up, his head flopping to the side, he gave one last curse of defiance which promptly lead to Harley throwing a glass of wine in his face. 

 

“Alright you rich dick weeds, see what we can do?” She pointed at Bruce’s now listless and wine covered form and grinned. “Give us all of your stuff or you'll end up like this one here.” She jabbed him hard with the bat, and Bruce gave a soft wheeze. Clark instinctively found himself reaching for his watch and pulled out the small wad of notes he had in his wallet. When Harley approached with her burlap back she paused and watched as he put his things inside. “Who invited the poor guy?” She asked the people around her before stepping closer, her grip tightening around the fabric of the bag. “I said everything bozo.”

“It’s all I have…” He couldn’t help the slight shake in his voice, even being a clear foot taller than the woman didn’t keep him from feeling the fear of her proximity. “I’m just a reporter i’m not-” 

 

Thankfully, Clark’s super senses meant he could see the way Harley’s bat began to pull back and how it came towards his stomach, he tried to think how best to react, and if Bruce taught Clark anything it was that subtlety was not in his vocabulary. 

 

When the bat hit his gut he let the air rush from his lungs in a loud woosh, he staggered back and collided with the floor in a mass of limbs and ruffled tweed. The guests around him gasped and moved away. As Harley stepped on top of him, he winced as he knew he should, stilettos across your thigh was something that was meant to be painful. 

“I’m asking you again.” She bent over her hair now dangling on Clark's face. “Give. Me. Everything.”

 

Clark fumbled to get his wallet from his pocket, before handing it to her, his hand shaking as he did. She grabbed it and jumped off the platform that was Clark’s prostrate body. He didn't move when she left his vicinity choosing to lay there on the floor, staring up at the shattered ceiling. As he stared he noticed another figure prowling around by the roof's surface, and had to do a double take when he realised who it was. 

 

It was somewhat surreal seeing the full Batman get up and not hearing Bruce's heartbeat coming from it. Dick landed behind the action as Pamela and Harley stayed occupied with the guests, he seemed to watch what they were doing and a quiet murmur rose up in the crowd as they noticed the newest addition to the party. Clark himself got up slowly, his eyes never leaving Batman.

 

When Harley made her way to the other side of the crowd where Lex Luthor stood watching the scene with a surprising amount of cool, Dick sprung into action, leaping into Pamela and knocking her to the side before turning his attention to Harley. 

 

As Pamela hit the floor, she let out a loud cry, Leaving Harley to drop the bag and turn around. “Of course! I shoulda known you’d show up B-man.” She reached for her bat, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Come at me.”

 

Dick lept off the table and rolled across the ground, swiping his leg into Harley’s. She jumped over them and swung her bat down at Dick, only for him to roll away again, letting his hand graze across the floor, collecting fine shards of glass before throwing them at Harley’s face. 

 

She turned away to avoid it, giving Dick the opening he needed. He sprang up and punched Harley hard in the stomach, causing a very real convulsive agony. She fell back and lay on the floor, staring up at Dick with contempt. 

He turned to face the crowd. “Everyone remain calm. The police are on their way.” Batman said as he stepped away from Harley. At least mastered the Batman monotone.

 

“Not so fast B-man.” Harley spat, before nodding to Pamela who was in the process of getting up, albeit with a slight wobble. She raised her arm, and a vine raced for him and Dick deftly flew into the air, his body arching as he dived for the ground. Like a dancer, he moved away from the snaking plant, jumping and gliding across the space before leading it toward where Harley lay, causing it to crash into her. She cried out and the vine withered away on the floor. “You’re gonna pay for that!” She yelled as she scrambled up, diving for her bat and throwing it and Batman’s head, he ducked and slide under the projectile, before tackling her to the ground once more. It was clever of him really, Dick choice to focus on his agility rather than fighting prowess. He could handle himself in a fight sure, but in any serious confrontation it would be easy to spot the real Batman from an imposter. 

 

Perhaps sensing the losing battle Pamela yelled. “Harley. Here. Now!” Harley did as she was told and grabbed the bag from the floor before running for the redhead. She jumped into her arms and they quickly flew from the ground in an explosion of vines and foliage. Dick made to follow but before he could the ceiling was engulfed with plants, creating a glow of green all around. 

 

With them gone, the room went from a fragile silence, to quiet murmurings, to outright chaos. Some rushed to release Bruce from his plant prison, others ran for the exit which was soon blocked with police officers reassuring them all to be calm. Clark himself watched Lex from across the room; he pulled out his phone and called his chauffeur to come immediately and arrange a quick flight back to Metropolis, before stepping past the police and out of the front doors. 

 

Clark wanted to jump for joy, but he was still very aware of the ‘play’ going on around him. He approached the now freed body of Bruce and saw Tim crouching beside him, his hand rubbing soothing circles into his back. Bruce sat dazed and watched the people around him with glassy eyes. “I suppose now would be a bad time for an interview?” Clark joked, and didn’t miss how everyone's glares were soon pointed at him.

 

Even Tim seemed to look at him slightly aghast, but Bruce just laughed. “Well if you're article is about me getting the crap beaten out of me but two scantily clad ladies then yes, it is a bad time.” He gave a small cough before wincing in pain. “If however you wanna spin it that I fought bravely and tried to defend my guests then, ask away.” He winked at Clark and before he could respond, a policeman approached, asking those surrounding Bruce to back away as he asked him some questions. 

 

Clark moved to the side of the room where other guests seemed to be congregating. Police officers spoke to all of them, asking what they saw as well as their contact information. When they reached Clark he gave as little information as he could and the officer quickly went onto the next guest. 

 

He didn't know when Dick left, but he did hear the officers mentioning to the guests that Batman had gone to retrieve what he could of their stolen property. That seemed to placate some of the louder guests who cared more about their jewelry than their host nearly dying. Before long they were being ushered out into the cool Gotham night.

 

An ambulance could soon be heard approaching the venue, its siren drowning out what little conversation was happening. It pulled up roughly onto the pavement, and two men jumped out, a stretcher between them. Clark had to do a double take when he recognized them. They were somewhat disguised but even then Clark knew Alfred when he saw him. Jason on the other hand was harder to recognize, until he sent a grin Clark’s way and it suddenly dawned on him. 

 

They entered the building and soon came out with Bruce on the stretcher, with Tim walking along side, arguing with the younger of the paramedics.

 

When the ambulance pulled away, he ducked behind the building and flew off when he was sure the last prying eyes were gone. It wasn’t hard to track the ambulance even with all of its evasiveness. He simply followed Bruce’s heartbeat, and landed when the ambulance parked up in one of Gotham's many alleys. He approached it cautiously and when he knocked he didn't expect the door to fling open so readily, but it did and soon he was crammed into the back with a now clearly fine Bruce and the rest of his family. 

 

“So…” Clark started, clapping his hands together. “That was an interesting evening.”

 

“Yeah, i’m sure it was.” Jason said, turning to Bruce. “It would have been better if ‘I’ got to be Batman instead of being on nanny duty.”

“Jason we talked about this, Dick has had training, you have not.” Bruce said, his voice clearly bordering on strained.

 

“I didn’t realise prancing around on a tightrope maybe him better than me.”

 

“We are not talking about this right now.” He ground out and before Jason could retort, another knock came from the door and soon Dick was pressed up against him as well.

“Well I don’t know about you but I think I made a pretty good Batman.” His cheeks were flushed from exertion as he smiled at them all. 

 

“You did okay.” Tim said. “I would have done more punching and less jumping, but we are where we are.”

 

“I would have done more punching…” Jason muttered.

“That is may be, but the point is Jason we have what we needed so the evening was a success regardless of the lack of ‘punching’.” Bruce said evenly, pulling off his suit jacket. He got up from the bed and moved to the driver's seat, turning to Alfred beside him before starting the car and pulling out of the alley.

 

After five minutes of circling around the Gotham streets the ambulance pulled into another alleyway. This time when they pulled in Bruce moved with practiced ease, pressing a button on the dashboard causing the wall in front of them to rise slowly. They pulled in and Bruce sat back in his seat, some of his tension leaving him. They left the ambulance, and in the space another vehicle sat. This one was more inconspicuous. A black van, with beaten up sides and bumper stickers plastered on it. Clark had to admit he wouldn't have given it a passing look. 

 

He let the boys in first before catching Bruce’s eyes and sending a small smile his way. Once in the van, he leant his head against the window, his mind ready for sleep. He stared out of the window as they drove, the lights of Gotham streaming by like flickering stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know... No Cyrus in this chapter? What the hell! You guys come here for your fill of adorable baby and you get this!?!?!?! Don't worry my children, Cyrus will return in the next chapter and it will be glorious. As always, lemme know what you guys think! I love talking with you, it gives me the drive to keep writing! :D You guys are awesome! Until next time! :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Arises from a shallow grave of crisp packets and debris* HELLO 2017! 
> 
> Here is the latest installment of 'Bruce and Clark's baby adventures' Enjoy! :D

Once the city lights became blurs in the distance, Clark rose up from his seat, easing himself behind where Bruce sat driving. He rested his hands on the seat and leant in close to Bruce. “Not that I didn’t find tonight fun…” Clark said. “But i’m struggling to see what we achieved.” The van was quiet aside from the hum of the engine, the boys didn’t speak, choosing instead to stare out of the windows or down at their phone in Tim’s case. 

Bruce gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement. “I can see how tonight may have seemed excessive, but I assure you it was all necessary.” 

“Harley Quinn hitting me with a bat was necessary?” Clark said and didn’t miss how Alfred gave a small cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. 

Bruce gave a half smile. “Well, maybe not that part.” He gave a half turn to Clark, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I can’t help that you didn’t do what she said.”

“Sure, blame me… You’re just lucky I’m a terrific actor.” He gave a sigh, not missing the way Bruce’s heart sped up when the air brushed against his ear. “Anyway, after you’ve had a chuckle at my misfortune, I take it you’re gonna tell me what you were really up to tonight.” 

“Well I need to gear up and head back into Gotham, so after that.” He gave a small shrug. “You’re welcome to come too if you wanted.”

“Of course.” He paused as they entered the long network of tunnels leading to the cave. “So just who are-?”

The subject flew out of his head all together when they hit the entrance to the cave and were confronted with the burnt out husk of the retinal scanner as well as a rip in the reinforced metal door. Bruce didn't show so much as a flicker of apprehension whilst Clark practically sweated it. He tested those doors, and the amount of strength needed to break them was no small amount. He quickly did a sweep of the cave, and when he registered two heart beats he frowned deeply. He was about to voice his concern when he saw the figures in question. He didn't know exactly what he expected, but Kara sitting at the batcomputer with Cyrus on her lap was not one of them. “Uh… It’s Kara, and she's got Cy.” 

Bruce expression never exceeded nonplussed as he unbuckled himself and opened the car door and jumped out. When Clark didn't move, he poked his head back in. “You coming?”

Clark moved from the van and followed Bruce and the boys through the now broken door. It wouldn't open to let the van in, and Clark briefly wondered how much it would cost to fix. 

As they approached, Kara spun around slowly, her hair disheveled with Cyrus quiet gnawing on it. Clark would have made a joke, had it not been for the intense glare he was receiving. “You.” She said finally, her eyes boring into his.

“Kara?” Clark asked as he approached, Cyrus turned to him and reached up his arms forgetting Kara altogether as he was lifted up, giggling contently. “I mean, I would ask how you got in, but the burnt out retinal scanner and giant rip in the door kinda clued us in.”

“Speaking of, shouldn't you have gotten a notification that the cave was broken into B?” Dick asked as he turned to Bruce. 

Bruce gave a nod. “I did.” He pointed at his watch, which blinked with a red light. “But when I went onto the security footage, I saw Kara and prevented security protocol from activating.” 

Kara seemed to balk at that, her expression fluttering into mild fear. “Security protocol?”

“It would have flooded the cave with paralytic gas.” He gave thoughtful look. “I really should put you and Kon on the approved security list.”

“Exactly! Well maybe not Kon, he needs to earn it, but me?” She huffed and crossed her arms. “I definitely earned it. Do you want to even know the evening I've just had?” Despite no one voicing their want to hear it, she jumped up. “He would not stop Clark, he cried so much! And the only person who could calm him down was Kon, which was a bit of a stab in the back I gotta admit but then that all meant nothing when Cyrus broke his phone and he flew away all pissed leaving me and ma to deal with the demon spawn!”

Tim was the next to approach, his eyebrow raised. “Cyrus broke his phone?” 

“Yeah!” She blurted out. “He was on it, and I was like ‘Kon, can you like, stop and help me calm Cyrus down, he’s really moody right now’ and Kon was like ‘Kara, you don’t understand, i’m in the middle of an important conversation’ and I was like ‘Kon, I really do not care. Do you brotherly duties,’ so I put Cyrus on his lap, and he reached for Kon’s phone and crushed it! Kon was so freaking pissed, he was like ‘stupid baby’ and Cyrus started crying even more! Eventually even ma was like just take him home, but you guys weren’t here, so I had to break in.” She gestured to the ripped open door and heaved a sigh. “I have been sitting in this cave for over an hour with him whining and crying and hitting me. He literally only stopped when you guys walked it.” She fell back into the chair, bringing her hands to rub her eyes. “He is such a little nightmare. Seriously. I take back everything I said about baby sitting. I can’t do it.” She eyed Cyrus and when she did he reached a hand out to her, a small smile on his face. Her face broke into a frown. “Oh sure, now you’re all cute and happy, but I've seen you. I know what you’re really like you demon.” 

“Kara.” Clark chided, bobbing Cyrus up and down. Cyrus himself not liking the tone of voice, curled against Clark's neck babbling quietly. “He’s a baby, you can't hold him accountable for his actions…” He looked down at him. “I really doubt it was as bad as you make it out to be.” 

Something white hot flared in her eyes, and if Clark was sparring he’d be worried, but all she did was jump up, her hand gripped tight around her phone. “Oh yeah?” she said, her voice as sharp as glass. “You think I’m exaggerating, do you? Listen to this.” She pressed down a small button and the sound of crying soon filled the cave, it was loud and sharp, and despite the winces from Dick and Tim she turned the volume up louder.

‘This is hour two of the Cypocalypse. I have seen the abyss and it is a small baby.’ The crying became louder, and the sound of Martha attempting to quell it could be heard over the noise. ‘Kon has left us, i'm pretty sure Cyrus has popped my ear drums and made Ma deaf. I can feel the void calling me-’

Clark himself only heard one prominent thing over the random cries and that was the repetition of ba. Between that however, he heard something else, repeated over and over. It sounded like ba, but not quiet. At first Clark thought it was general babbling, but it all clicked when Cyrus reached up for him, his hand grazing Clark’s mouth, and offered a small ‘da’.

“Aww.” Clark whispered, his heart clenching.

“Aww?” Kara spat. “Fricken aw? Are you hearing this?” She held the phone closer for emphasis and Cyrus reached for it. “No, back away hell spawn, I saw what you can do to phones.” She said as the audio cut off.

“Stop calling him that Kara.” Clark frowned. “It’s not funny, okay, obviously something was really upsetting him.”

“I get that Clark, but I don’t speak baby so I didn't know what the hell to do! Maybe next time leave me with a manual.” She let out a growl of frustration, gripping her hair as she walked past them. “I can’t talk about this right now... I need to go home. I need to sleep. I need to wash baby drool out of my hair.” She ducked out of the freshly made hole in the door and was off before Clark could say another word.

Jason gave a loud whistle when she left and finally approached them from where he had stood by the door. “Jesus.” He said, looking at Cyrus with mild apprehension. “So you got a little bit of a dark side don’t you baby blue?” Cyrus didn't comment, opting instead to burrow into Clark’s suit. 

“He does not.” Clark said firmly. “He just missed me and Bruce is all.” And as if the word was a trigger, Cyrus’ head shot up, reaching one hand to Bruce who quickly scooped him from Clark’s arms. 

Dick merely shrugged and turned to Bruce. “Well regardless, if that's how he acts when he ‘misses’ you guys I’m afraid I’m gonna have to join Kara’s veto for babysitting. She's an alien, and if she can’t handle him, I sure as hell wouldn’t be able too.”

“Funny how Kon could apparently calm him down though…” Tim offered quietly, moving closer though not without a significant dubiousness. 

“Well we can look more into it later.” Bruce leveled a stare at the boys. “It’s late so you better go to bed. Alfred's made a cocoa.” Clark gave a look around the cave and the lack of the English man suddenly hit him. Sure enough, he was upstairs at the cooker. How he managed to move so silently Clark would never know. 

“Bruce, we aren't kids.” Dick huffed. “Though I wouldn’t mind a cup of cocoa…” 

“Whilst cocoa does sound tempting, I better be heading back into Gotham, meeting up with some friends.” Jason jerked his head to the fleet of cars off to the side. “I heard you saying you’re to heading back into Gotham, mind if a bum a ride?” He then gave a rough shrug. “Or I can borrow a car, either or.” 

Bruce pursed his lips. “Considering the door is jammed and the van is too conspicuous at the moment, I was actually going to use the Kryptonian express.” He tilted his head to Clark, who himself gave a sheepish grin.

“Really?” Jason said, a smirk firmly in place. “Next I’ll be seeing you flying off into the distance, with a ‘just married’ sign on your back.” 

“Jason.” Dick whispered harshly, his body frigid. Even Tim seemed to go quiet at the words, before Bruce gave a small laugh. 

“Speaking of boys, as i’m sure you'll be happy to hear…” He glanced to Clark, whose own cheeks were dusted pink. “Me and Clark are now in a relationship.” There was an immediate silence that encapsulated them, Clark was aware he’d stopped breathing as he looked at the boys one by one. He realised he was expecting something to happen, though Jason bursting into fits of laughter was not one of them. 

“I knew it! I knew the baby would do it! You owe me Dick, pay up!” He turned to the eldest, his hand thrust towards him and Dick’s mouth bobbed open.

“How… How did he do it… Years we’ve tried. Years, and in swans this baby and does it in week.” Dick looked up dejectedly. “If i’d have known a baby was all it took, there would have been a sea of infants in this manor let me tell you...” 

“Yeah, yeah, Dick regrets not believing me, pay up. And you too Timbo, don't think I forgot about you.” Jason frowned when he saw Tim smiling. “Why you smiling like that?” He said, his eyes narrowing.

“Just happy for Bruce, that’s all.” He sent a knowing look to Clark. “Anyway Jason, I’m not paying.” He crossed his arms against his chest. “You have never paid me for all the past bets we’ve made.”

“Hey I gave you IOU’s and backrub coupons. Not my fault you didn’t redeem them.”

Tim scoffed. “Fine, then allow me to repay you with my own coupons, just gimme a day. I need to grab some paper and crayons.” 

“Boys…” Bruce said softly, his smile bright. “I’m going to have to take a raincheck on his discussion.” He turned to Clark. “We'd better be heading into Gotham now, I don’t want to keep Selina waiting.”

“Right. We better-” Clark paused as what was said slowly registered in his mind. “Wait… Selina… As in Catwoman?”

Tim's eyebrows shot up. “Wow you really did tell him nothing, Bruce.” 

“All will be revealed eventually.” He said as he turned to Clark. “I would have suggested leaving Cyrus here but from what Kara said, I doubt he’d be okay with that.” As if understanding, Cyrus’s grip tightened on Bruce shoulders. Removing him would definitely be a challenge. 

Clark made a face. “Well i’m not sure how I feel about us bringing Cy to a known criminal’s home."

“He’ll be fine Clark.” Dick offered. “Selina is kinda a friend of the family. Also I doubt she’d try anything whilst Superman and Batman were there.”

“Speaking of, we’d better get changed.” He passed Cyrus over and looked to the boys. “Cocoa then bed.” Jason was about to object, but Bruce stopped him. “Unless you want a piggy back from Clark I suggest calling your friends and saying you can’t make it.” Jason’s mouth snapped shut and he too followed Dick and Tim out of the cave.

It didn’t take long for Bruce to change, and when he was suited Cyrus looked more than a tad perturbed. His fingers slid across the kevlar surface, and when he rested his head against Bruce's neck he didn't seem too happy. Clark quickly flew off to change as well, and soon he was ferrying them across Gotham. He followed Bruce instructions and before long they were in front of what he could only assume was Catwoman's home. 

Bruce approached the door with confidence, despite Clark’s own want to turn back around and leave. The area of Gotham they were in just screamed bad. He could hear it in the sirens that echoed all around, with the omnipresent scent of marijuana and rotting garbage in the air, and yet Bruce seemed to be completely unaffected by it all, opening the door as if it were his own.

When he stepped it, it was like entering a new world. The room was like a bubble in time, dressed in furniture and decor Clark could only guess was older than him, perhaps even older than ma. There was however, one addition that meant it had to be a home, rather than a museum exhibition.

And that was cats. Lots of cats. Everywhere.

Clark couldn’t move without some part of his body grazing a lump of fur. Some purred and others hissed and swiped, only to jump away when their claws met Kryptonian skin. He saw a woman enter, and all at once those eyes caught his attention. He was stunned he hadn’t recognized her sooner. 

“Selina.” Bruce said easily, stepping forward, and to the horror of Clark lowering his cowl. “How are you?”

She merely shrugged, as if she hadn't just be privy to something only a handful of people knew. “Yeah, can't complain. Sprinkles pissed on my bed, but that's what I get for giving her tuna.” She was out of her waitress outfit, dressed in nothing but a shirt and underwear.

“Sprinkles is the one with the broken tail, right?” 

Selina gave a smirk. “No, that’s Cupcake.” She eyed Cyrus’ now sleeping head resting on Bruce’s shoulder and smiled. “I take it this is the baby?” 

“Yes. This is Cyrus.” He looked down at Cyrus as well. “He’s usually more lively then this.”

Clark himself stood and watched the interaction with abject confusion, eventually Selina's eyes slid to him and a glimmer seemed to rise from them. “So, you look different from earlier. I have to say, glasses suit you more.”

Clark tried to fight the bile rising up his throat, but he simply turned his head to Bruce by a fraction his voice painfully on edge. “You told her.”

Bruce frowned at the remark, but it was Selina who stepped forward one hand raised to Clark. “No. Of course he didn’t.” Her voice was sharp. “I figured it out, Einstein.”

Clark let his breath out in a long exhale, willing all his anger to go with it. He didn't speak, knowing his voice would be too raw, thankfully Bruce seemed to sense the shift in the room and lifted Cyrus up slightly. Cyrus lolled his head to the side at that moment and regarded Selina curiously, and also happened to see the hoard of cats and let out a loud squeal before scrambling against Bruce. Immediately Selina’s eyes drew to him and she frowned. “Oh no, honey they’re not scary, they’re super friendly, look-” she lifted a cat from the floor and held it close, she pressed herself up to Bruce and Cyrus peeked out from his neck. The cat itself didn’t so much as move, merely looking at Cyrus with large unblinking eyes, when Cyrus reached a hand out to the cat, it moved its head to brush the side of it against his fingers. Cyrus giggled and repeated the motion, his hands running across the soft fur.

He wouldn't stop giggling and eventually Bruce sat on one of the many chairs in the room, and the other cats now curious about this new addition came forward, jumping up and brushing against Cyrus. 

Clark thought it was a little unfair his child was practically being indoctrinated into becoming a cat person, however Clark couldn't help but admit he too was being swayed. All of Selina’s cats were friendly for the most part. Even the ones that swatted him when he walked in, now rubbed themselves against his legs. He wanted to pet the small kitten that mewled up at him, but one look at Selina’s smug face stopped him. 

He gave a short cough, and looked at Bruce expectantly. The other caught his meaning and looked toward Selina. “Do you have it?”

“Do I have it?” She repeated sauntering to the coffee table, and reaching down for the object in question. “Is the pope Jewish?”

“No.” Bruce frowned. “No he is not.”

“Oh.” She paused. “Well I got it anyway.” 

In her hand was a small rectangle, and Clark watched in confusion as Bruce picked it up from her hand and started fiddling with it, though that job was made a lot harder with Cyrus reaching for it as he looked. “A phone?” Clark asked.

Bruce gave a minor nod, his eyes not leaving the screen. “Lex’s specifically.”

Clark couldn't help but frown. “But I saw him using it before we left, how did-”

“I should clarify, it's a clone of his phone.” He gestured his head to Selina, who was now leant against the arm of the chair making faces at Cyrus. “Whilst he was distracted Selina made a clone of Lex’s phone and placed the original back on him without him noticing. Now I can keep tabs on all of his activities.” 

“Like project zeta…” Clark said softly.

“Precisely.” 

Selina stood up slowly and stretched her arms up, a loud yawn coming from her. “Well, I know this is all just riveting stuff, but i've had a long night.” She kissed Bruce gently on the cheek and pulled away. “Don't be a stranger Bruce.”

Bruce regarded her, and his stare softened. “Your payment is with Harley and Pamela.”

“Yeah, not like they have much. I kinda emptied most of the guests pockets before they got round to mugging them. Don't tell them that though.” She winked and looked toward Clark. Her eyes narrowed just a tad, but the look was gone before Clark could response. She turned and retreated back to the bedroom. 

They didn't speak again until they were outside a few rooftops away from Selina’s home. Cyrus looked out over the city and before long up at the sky. Bruce sat down on the edge of the roof top and Clark quietly sat down next to him. “I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean-”

“It’s fine Clark.” Bruce gave a sigh. “I guess I should have expected you two wouldn't get along.”

“Well you can't blame me can you? She was so smug and the way she just draped herself over you like she owns you.” He knew he was being petty, but with only Bruce and an infant clone to see him, he didn’t much care.

Bruce was quiet, but slowly his head turned to Clark. “Well, you did imply that I told her your identity.” 

Clark winced, all at once the anger within him fleeing and leaving a tremor of embarrassment. “I know I did... But I didn't mean it, I meant- I don't know what I meant…” 

Bruce gave a mild shrug. “Clark I forgive you. You came to a conclusion which to you made sense, as you and apparently the people of Metropolis seem to think your disguise is fool proof.” He gave a small smirk as he said this and Clark’s brows immediately furrowed.

“Hey, it fooled you didn't it?” 

“Briefly.” He conceded. “Anyway, in a way you were right. I may not have told her in so many words, but my actions lead to her knowing.” Clark's frown must have been evident as Bruce went on. “To get her to play along I needed to tell her ‘why’ she was needed. I couldn't exactly get her to rob Lex Luthor without her knowing it was for an important cause, and she certainly wasn't going to rope Pamela and Harley in as well without knowing”

“And you needed them to play along because?” 

“Mainly as a distraction.” He said. “I wanted Selina there to do the lift. I mean she's the only person aside from myself who I trust to do the job right. But as I said, she wasn't going to do it just because I asked, so I told her about the Superman clone labs and about Cyrus, and she was up for it. When I mentioned needing a big distraction she said she’d get Pamela and Harley to come and rob the event, they didn’t need much convincing, just her saying she had a job as a waitress for the party was enough. It isn't exactly the first time one of my charity galas got hijacked so I agreed. I told Selina anything they looted would be their payment, and it allowed me to kill two birds with one stone. Batman came and stopped the looting before it got too far, and me being present when he did should shut up a few of the more diehard ‘Bruce Wayne is Batman’ conspiracy theorists. ” 

“Wow.” Clark said finally. “That's, uh. Something.” He looked at Bruce, a look of wonder on his face. “You really did think a lot about this.” 

“I suppose, but in the end we have what we wanted and that's all that matters.”

Clark nodded slowly, taking in the city skyline. From where they sat he could see all of Gotham, rising up into the evening sky. “Now we just need to find the lab.” He said quietly. 

“At least we now have a direct link to the man who knows where it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CYRUS?? THE BOYS??? BRUCE BEING MORE OPEN??????????? Don't say I don't deliver on what you guys really want ;) ;) ;) 
> 
> So I had a lot of fun writing the dialogue for this chapter. I like giving everyone really lame senses of humor to match my own B) Anyway, forgive the lateness of this update, but I am a slow sausage as you all know. Maybe one day I can dream of being a fast chipolata, but today is not that day. Thank you all for your comments, and for those of you still around from the early days GOLD STARS FOR ALL OF YOU! And those new and hoping this is a fast updating series............... I am sorry. Until next time! :D
> 
> *on a side note, I am actually going back and editing previous chapters. Not in any significant way, its just that looking back certain parts don't sit right with me anymore so I'm going back and changing them so better fit with my vision. Don't worry if you don't want to go back and read all the revisions, its just for my own sake so that when this fic is properly finished it will be the fic i want it to be :D*


	12. Chapter 12*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO UPDATES IN THE SAME MONTH??? MAN IS THIS GOING TO BE A THING THAT NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN!
> 
> Now, now, in all seriousness.... Here is the new chapter, and those of you who are perhaps more observant will say, 'huh, why is there an asterix in the chapter title?' WELL MY LOVELY READERS THAT MEANS THERE'S GONNA BE SOME GOOD OLE FASHIONED BOINKING IN THIS CHAPTER. 
> 
> I chose to asterix chapters with sexual activities in it, just in case some of y'all are just here for cute babies and fluff, not awkward first time sex between two giant dorks. I figured it would also be good if any of you guys go back to this fic at any point just to read the boinking and can quickly see which has it in so its a win win I think. 
> 
> Anyway, as always I hope you enjoy!

Surprisingly, all the boys were still at the manor when they returned. Jason, apparently having heeded Bruce's advice, was still there moving around up in his room, whilst Dick and Tim were already asleep.

It was a strange thing for Clark to listen to. He had gotten so used to the silence of the manor that any noise aside from Alfred’s quiet humming was odd. He couldn’t deny however that he liked it. The manor seemed less imposing when there were people living in it. He was beginning to see why Bruce was eager for him to stay, well aside from the obvious reasons.

Clark was still struggling to come to terms with it all. He and Bruce were together. Bruce liked him, and they were now raising a child together. It almost seemed like a cruel joke, as if Lex was going to rush in and claim it was all an elaborate ruse, and that Bruce was in on it the whole time.

He knew he was being neurotic. He just wasn't used to things going his way in the romantic department. He was half expecting Bruce any moment to turn around and say it wasn't working.

Of course if what the boys said was anything to go by, that wasn’t likely to happen. In a way it made Clark feel better in his own feelings that Bruce liked him for as long as he had.

Once they landed by the ripped hole in the door, Bruce asked Clark to fold it closed, ‘just incase anyone came wandering in.’ Once the metal was back in place, with a now unsightly seam running through it, Bruce made his way to the computer. Before he could sit down however Clark was in front of him. “What are you doing?”

Bruce, perhaps not used to this level of confrontation, gave a mild look of apprehension. “I was going to upload the phone onto the computer and-”

“That sounds an awful lot like something that can wait till morning.” Clark said firmly. Despite what Bruce liked to portray, he could see the man was tired. Bruce himself would claim he could still work, even go out on patrol if he had to, and the slight slump in his shoulders as well as the redness in his eyes would be the only indication he was lying. Clark wasn’t about to let that happen anymore. Not if he could help it. “Come on Bruce it’s late, and you’re tired. Let’s just go to bed. Please?”

Perhaps sensing the losing battle ahead of him, Bruce didn’t object. “Fine. Let me just put it in a secure place and i’ll go to bed.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Clark moved away from the computer allowing Bruce to come forward. He pulled out a drawer underneath the console, before laying the phone down inside. When he had turned back around Clark couldn’t help the grin plastered on his face. “Well that was easy. Gotta be honest, didn’t think you’d actually listen to me.”

“It’s a perk of being in a relationship with me. I occasionally listen to your opinion.” He said with a smirk, before readjusting Cyrus in his arms, despite being firmly asleep he gave a gurgle at the movement. Bruce stepped past Clark and up the stairway, leaving Clark to follow after.

“If that's not an incentive I don’t know what is...” Clark said coyly. “So tell me are there other perks?” When he caught Bruce rolling his eyes he huffed a laugh. “Hey I just wanna know what the full ‘dating Bruce Wayne’ package is.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “I think it would be more fun for you to discover those things for yourself.” He gave a small smile as he pulled away to drop Cyrus off in his room.

He made his own way into Bruce’s room and waited inside. He looked around in the low light, at the photos littering the wall, and the ornaments on the dressers. He pulled against his collar. The room was hot, and he was still in his suit. He made to take off his cape but caught Bruce standing at the doorway. His cowl was off, but that meant little when his face was a blank slate of emotion.

“What is it?” Clark asked quietly. Bruce didn’t reply in words, but briefly, just for a moment, a flicker of apprehension crossed his face. Clark felt his own heat up at the attention that was being paid to him. He let out a shaky breath as he set his cape down on the chair beside him.

He began working the body of his suit down his torso, and again caught Bruce’s eyes firmly on him. He tried not to let it get to him, so Bruce was watching him undress? What was the big deal? Why was he getting so flustered?

He could feel himself sweat, but listening in on Bruce showed he wasn’t the only one affected. Sure enough he could hear Bruce’s heart like a jackhammer in his ears. His face may have betrayed nothing, but his body definitely did.

Perhaps feeling a tad vindictive, or just wanting to see what would happen; with a sudden feeling of confidence Clark tried to put on the best innocent expression he could muster and quietly muttered. “Just to let you know, I’m not wearing any underwear.”

That did it. Bruce gave a sharp intake of breath, and his bottom lip was now firmly gripped between his teeth. His heart went from mild jog to sprinting in a matter of moments and Clark gave a small smile as he let his hands rest on the edge of where his suit lay, just above the bones of his hips. He made sure Bruce’s eyes were on him and slowly pulled the suit down.

Before he could, Bruce was on him. It must be a trait of the family; the ability to move without Clark so much as sensing them. But he couldn’t dwell on that thought too long. Bruce was there, all lips and frantic hands and Clark could do nothing but wrap his arms around him, pressing him in close.

Immediately he understood Cyrus’s misgivings with the suit. He too let out a grumble as his hands reached for Bruce’s hips only to receive plastic. He pushed Bruce back just barely. “Off.” He said sharply, his eyes flicking to the armour.

Bruce huffed but quickly worked at all of the clasps and tethers of the suit. It was quite remarkable to see how many safeguards went into the thing. Clark would have thought with how easily Bruce removed his cowl that it was just a case of pulling it off. Apparently not.

Clark took a step back to watch as Bruce worked, and the effect of it was almost immediate. His hands trembled and he caught himself on one of the latches. The chest and arms came off easily, revealing the thin black under armour, but his legs apparently weren’t complying and the more he tried the more they caught. Clark found himself moving forward. “Let me…Just tell me what to do” He pressed his hand against Bruce’s.

Bruce nodded and Clark moved back to get a better view. “Pull the clasp.” Clark did as told, about to pull it further when Bruce’s hand was back on his, still trembling. “Dont. Move it slightly to the right.” He repeated the action and heard a quiet click. “Now pull it back completely.” And as if by magic the casing around Bruce’s leg fell to the ground joining the rest. Clark’s hand moved to the other and this time didn’t need an explanation from Bruce, the two legs mirrored one another and soon, there was just one bat themed chastity belt between them.

Bruce’s breath caught when Clark’s hands grazed against the kevlar. He looked into Bruce’s eyes and saw the pure want in them. He swallowed down the saliva pooling in his mouth and pressed forward. “What do I do now?” His voice a hoarse whisper.

With a small nod, Bruce’s hands were on Clark’s again, moving them into place. “Pull the latches.” Clark’s fingers found them and as he pulled Bruce took a deep breath. “The left one needs to go up, and the right one down.” He gives a nod and then Bruce’s mouth is by his ear, his breath ghosts against him. “Rotate them both 45 degrees counter clockwise.”

He heard a quiet pop and then the quiet clatter of the armour as it hit the pieces on the floor. Clark stepped back to appreciate Bruce in the under armour. It hugged his body closely, and Clark could see the vivid outline of certain body parts within it. It seemed he was not the only one to be going commando.

Bruce reached for the zip on his back before deciding against it. He turned away from Clark, arching his back slightly. “Could you pull it down?” He asked and Clark found his hands suddenly not cooperating. As he reached for the zip, they jerked and when he attempted to pull down the zipper it caught. Cursing internally he schooled himself, gently pulling down the zipper and revealing Bruce’s body.

When he reached the end of it he let go. Bruce gave a quiet thank you before slowly pulling the suit down. Clark averted his eyes. He just knew he’d blow right then and there if he so much as glanced at Bruce naked. When he realised he could still see Bruce's toned body in his peripheral he clamped his eyes closed and heaved a shuddery breath. He waited a moment before pulling the rest of his own suit all the way down.

Bruce seemed to take a step back from what Clark could gather. Eyes still closed, he had to try and assess what was happening through sound alone. There was silence. Bruce was watching him again. Stiff as a board, eyes closed tight and hands in firm fists beside him. He probably looked like an idiot, but he knew he’d look more like an idiot if he came on Bruce with little other than his naked body as stimulation.

“Clark…” Bruce said softly. He pressed his hand against Clark’s chest, right where his heart lay. “Look at me.”

Clark bit his lip. “I can’t…” He said lamely.

Bruce laughed at that, and it sounded so free and light. Clark briefly wished his eyes were open so he could have seen that smile. “Why not?” Bruce asked.

“Because if I do, I won’t ever be able to let you go ever again. I’ll be attached to you forever. Your own personal Clark Kent fanny pack.”

He let his eyes open by a fraction, but kept his head firmly up. He saw Bruce’s face, all soft smiles and blushes and before he could decide against it, his eyes were open and Bruce's beautiful face was all he could see. Bruce brought his hands up to gently cup Clark’s cheeks. “Well I guess you’re my new fanny pack.”

“That should not sound as sexy as it did...” Bruce laughed again and this time Clark sees it, and God if that smile was anything like the last one Clark missed out big time. Bruce’s arms wrap around his neck and he’s being pulled along to the bed.

Bruce lets go when they reach the edge, letting himself fall back onto the mattress gently. Clark’s command of gravity meant when he fell ontop of him he doesn’t bang his head against Bruce’s. The immediately press of certain body parts however has them both reeling. Clark bucked his hips at the feeling, and Bruce's hands grasp against him, panting gently.

“Clark-” He pulled Clark down to his lips, kissing and biting and Clark bucked again, feeling the glide of himself against Bruce’s thigh. “Clark, oh God.” He moaned, and his voice was just too much for Clark.

“You’re so hot Bruce do you know that? All those magazines calling you worlds sexiest man don't know the half of it.” He pulled back and Bruce reached for him, trying to pull Clark back down against him, but Kryptonian versus horny human could only go one way, and sadly it was Clark’s. He stepped away from the bed, and by God if his eyes weren't immediately drawn to Bruce’s very prominent erection. Bruce himself was looking up at him from the bed, his hands by his side, gripping the duvet, his knuckles bled white. Clark was aware his body must be in a similar state to Bruce’s, he could practically feel himself throbbing.

He took a breath and rested his knee on the bed beside Bruce’s, he then brought the other up as well, stradling Bruce’s thighs with his own, their cocks mere inches away. Clark thinks about grabbing them both, giving them the friction they both crave, but he doesn't. He couldn’t speak for Bruce, but he knew he wasn’t going to last long and wanted this to go on as long as it could. He eyed Bruce, but still his hands didn’t move from the duvet. Clark gave a smile. “You can touch me Bruce… I won’t bite.”

Permission given Bruce’s hands lifted from the bed and began running up and down the lengths of Clark’s thighs, stilling every so often on Clark’s flanks and kneading the flesh there. Clark realised he perhaps shouldn’t have said that as any movement that close to his dick was somewhat of a liability. Bruce’s hands stayed on him and Clark brought his own to rest on Bruce’s chest.

God he was warm. Bruce skin was slicked with sweat and Clark leant over and licked the rivulet running down Bruce's collar bone. “Fuck.” Bruce muttered, and so unhinged by hearing him swear, Clark felt his cock shudder.

He pulled back quickly. “No more swearing.” He said his stare wild and Bruce had the audacity to laugh again.

“But how would I communicate when you do something good?” Bruce’s hands rubbed lazy circles into Clark’s back and he gave a shivered.

“Uh, well. You could say, ‘gosh Clark that was really good do that again please.’ At least then I wouldn’t cum without you touching me.”

“So i'm not touching you right now?” He said with a smirk, his nails raking across Clarks back.

“Fuck…”

Bruce’s face turned into one of mock surprise. “Wait, so you can swear?” Bruce’s hands are back on his flanks again, his fingers digging in, and the pressure on his muscles makes Clark squirm. “Somehow that doesn’t seem fair to me…”

“So that’s how you wanna play, huh?” Clark’s eyes go narrow as he pulled in close to Bruce and in quick movements his hands are on his chest again, but he moves his mouth down the collar bone across Bruce’s pectoral to the nipple. His lips grip it and he smirks when Bruce moans. He can hear the beginning of a swear on his lips but it’s soon swallowed. As his lips move, Bruce’s hands travel along his back before going into his hair, and Fuck. Okay, Clark was not prepared for how good Bruce’s fingers raking across his scalp would be. He moaned into Bruce’s skin and Bruce gave a breathy laugh.

“Gee wizz Clark that feels great please do that again.”

Clark pulled away from the skin, his lips in a thin line. He stared down at Bruce whose own face held a lazy smile. “Okay, I take it back. I’m pretty sure that killed my erection.”

“Oh I don’t know…” And Bruce’s hand was on him, properly on him, and Clark swallowed hard.

Well, it wasn’t as awkward as he thought it would be so that was a massive plus, but at the same time, he prayed to God Bruce doesn't move his index finger by a fraction of an inch or all this will be over very quickly. “See? I don’t think it went anywhere…” Bruce's eyes slid from his swollen cock to Clark’s beet red face and shuddering body, his voice went quiet. “How close are you?”

“You move at all and i’m gone. Finished. Seeing white.” His voice was tight, he could barely speak for fear of moving and ending what was becoming the best night of his life.

“My my what incredible control you have Mr. Kent.” He squeezes Clark ever so gently and Clark can’t help it, he gasps. His brain urging him to just move his hips forward. He pants as his eyes slid closed. “How long is your refractory period?” Bruce whispered, his thumb now resting on his slit.

Clark’s eyes bulge out as he sent a look of disbelief to Bruce. “Is this your idea of dirty talk?”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “I was asking how long it takes for you to get hard after you cum, genius.”

“Oh.” Clark said flatly, and he can’t help it, he shivered. “Well, I mean I haven’t done extensive tests or anything-” Bruce nodded as his thumb swiped across the sensitive flesh. Clark’s voice jumped a few octaves as he finished his sentence. “But I guess i’m pretty quick.”

“I figured.” Bruce said as his hand wrapped around Clark properly and gave a sudden twist. Clark practically jolted upright, a silent moan on his lips. He found himself paralyzed, his hands frozen into firsts by his sides. Bruce’s hand was gone and Clark almost lets out a sigh, but no, his hand was back, slick with what Clark could only assume was saliva. He wanted to tell Bruce to stop. That he doesn’t want to cum so early, but he can’t speak, his mind is gone, and he has no idea what kind of noises he's making. He tries to move and settles for falling back on top of Bruce, using the others mouth to muffle the frankly embarrassing stream of moans coming from him. His kisses are sloppy, but Bruce doesn't seem to mind as he works Clark's dick in his hand. He knows he's close but he doesn’t quite realise how close until he bursts out a shout, cumming on Bruce as his hand gently pulls him through his orgasm.

He panted for a few minutes against Bruce, and rather belatedly he could still feel Bruce’s own erection pressed against him, he felt a wash of guilt and moved himself to get a better look at Bruce. He didn’t know what kind of face he must have been pulling until Bruce's hand came to rest on Clark’s cheek. “Don’t be embarrassed… If you had thrust against me just one more time when we got on the bed you would have seen the fastest ejaculation in human history.”

Clark laughed, but it sounded sullen even to himself. “How come you didn't though? You have a secret you not telling me?”

Bruce gave a sly smirk. “I may have had to employ some Tibetan meditation techniques to stop myself from that embarrassment.”

“I don't know how the Tibetans would feel about you doing something like that with their teachings…” Clark said quietly, his head resting on Bruce’s chest.

“You won’t tell on me though will you Clark?” Bruce said as his hands move back into his hair, and Clark’s dick despite having just had a mind blowing orgasm is attempting to get back into the swing of things.

Clark swallowed hard. “Well I dunno, me and the Tibetans are pretty close, I don't want to lie to them…”

“I see, just so-” But Bruce stops, and Clark can see silent laughter breaking his composure. “What even is this dirty talk?”

Clark can’t help it, he laughs too. “What you don't want to talk about Tibetan monks for foreplay?”

“Surprisingly no. I would much rather you go back to calling me the sexitest man alive. That did wonders for my ego.”

Clark gave a slow nod. “Did it now?” With a smirk he leant in close to Bruce. “Well, now that we're being honest; you swearing and just in general moaning is pretty much the hottest thing in the universe.” Bruce gave a hum, his eyes closed as his hands moved from Clark’s head to his neck. Clark gulped. “Like right now, you look so good I just wanna kiss you over and over and over again.”

This made Bruce laugh and he opened one eye to peek at him. “And just what makes me look so good?”

Clark laughed. “You really aren't being subtle, fishing for compliments you vain bastard.” He pressed up against Bruce, kissing his face and cheeks, moving along his temple to his forehead, his lets his lips rest there and closed his eyes. “You look good because…” He swallowed and only spoke when he felt Bruce’s hands on his back, like an anchor. “Because I know you’re not trying to look this good, this is you. No Brucie. No anything. Just you. Everything that goes through your mind, I can see it, you’re not hiding from me anymore, and damn it Bruce if that isn’t-” he doesn’t get to finish, Bruce could be surprisingly strong when he needed to be, and the grip on his neck pulled him to Bruce’s frantic mouth, and Clark can feel his erection spring back up to full attention.

“Clark, I can’t- you, please, fuck-” and somehow through that jumble of the English language Clark knew what he had to do. He lifted Bruce up and brought him up further into the bed. Bruce’s eyes were blown wide as they followed Clark’s every movement. Clark’s brain faltered for a moment on what to do, but then as if on autopilot, Bruce’s erection was sliding into his mouth.

The hands in his hair go from just gripping to downright pulling. Clark is somewhat thankful for his superhuman abilities, as he is sure if Bruce did this to a human they would be bald by the end of the evening. Clark however let out a small hum at the feeling and then-

Bruce was cumming.

Clark gave Bruce a moment before he pulled away with a pop and let the liquid now in his mouth move around so he could get a taste for it. He swallowed and gave Bruce a toothy grin. “Wow. What was that, three seconds? Four?” He quickly looked at Bruce to see his reaction and when he saw a resigned smile he continued. “Those Tibetan techniques didn't really help much did they?”

With a breathy laugh, Bruce’s eyes slid closed. “They didn’t take into account beautiful aliens when they were creating them, they were only used to average looking people. I should go back in time and warn them what humanity is in for.”

“I guess… But now, i’m back to full attention, and you look like you wanna fall asleep.” He prodded Bruce’s side to prove his point.

“Probably should have thought about that before you made fun of me...”

“I wasn't making fun. Honest.” He kissed Bruce gently, nipping along his jaw. “If anything that was really hot…” Bruce hummed quietly at the words, and to Clarks horror his body was becoming slack. “No, don’t go asleep. Please.”

Though his eyes remained closed, Bruce spoke. “Too late.” He gave an exaggerated snore and Clark huffed in frustration.

“Bruce.” He whined and that does it as Bruce slowly gets up.

“Lay back on the bed.” It’s an order, no room to object, not that Clark would. He lays back across the now down right filthy bedding. The room reeks of nothing but sweat and semen and yet Clark can't help but inhale deeper. Bruce moves over him like an animal looking at its prey, and that image alone was enough to push Clark further to the brink

“Now Kent, i’m going to show you how to preform oral sex properly.” Bruce says as he lowers himself to Clark’s cock, peppering it with kisses as his hands work his length. Clark inhales and wills himself to hold on. He just came dammit! He wasn’t a teenager anymore, he should be able to-

Bruce swallowed him whole, and Clark threw his head back. “Jesus! Bruce, fuck!” The warmth was almost too much, and Clark could feel himself whimpering. This was not good. If he thought he was making an ass out of himself from a handjob, he clearly had no idea how much worse he could get. “Bruce, please, please…” He muttered. “You’re so good, so so good. God.” He’s fairly certain he’s not even speaking English anymore, his mind somewhere deeper and primal.

But Bruce is stopping, and when he pulled away, Clark was so close… so so close but Bruce just smiled and in perfect Kryptonese said;

“Cum for me Kal-El.”

He tensed, and he felt his orgasm ripple across his midsection, before his cock gave a jerk. He started in wonder at his dick as he came, his semen hitting Bruce on the jaw, Bruce however didn’t seem at all perturbed, instead bringing his fingers to wipe off the excess and bring it to his lips, sucking the fluid off.

His dick gave another spurt and Clark was speechless, his eyes were wide, his brain unable to form words.

Bruce sat back up slowly, his body glistening with sweat and Clark’s cum. In that moment he was stunning. Clark could feel his dick wanting round three, however there was something Clark needed to say, if his mouth and brain would coporate.

“You-” Clark forced out. “Are ‘never’ allowed to say my name again. Ever. That was-” He sat up his eyes livid. “Bruce you made me cum without touching me!”

“I know.” Bruce said, even he seemed in awe. “I wasn’t expecting that to work, next time we can do the whole thing in Kryptonese.”

Clark’s cock was very much fond of the idea, but Clark shook his head. “Bruce i’m serious, that was scary, i’ve never-” He didn’t know why he was so panicky, but Bruce was there pressed close and he rubbed reassuring circles into Clark's back.

“Shh, Clark it’s okay. We don’t need to do that again. I’m sorry-”

“Bruce it’s not that I didn’t like it, I just-” He looked at Bruce and despite the cum on his face, the earnestness of his expression hit Clark. “Tonight has just been a crap ton of firsts, you know? But, realising you have that kind of of power over me, it’s… it’s intense.”

Bruce’s legs wrapped around Clark’s waist as he pressed his mouth close to Clarks neck, and breathed. “I know…” He ran his nose across the tendons of Clark’s neck, running up to his jaw. “I mean I’ve never had someone so eager to do exactly what I told them to do before.”

“Well I do aim to please…” Clark muttered, and Bruce is kissing him, and if this evening has shown anything is that Clark will never tire from Bruce’s lips on his own. “But seriously, we may need to look more into that.”

Bruce gave a quick quirk of the lip. “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

“It is Bruce! Copious amounts of sex with you? I don’t know how I’m gonna cope…” He flopped back onto the bed, his arms splayed out.

“I’m sure you’ll cope just fine.” Bruce whispered as he leant over and kissed Clark’s forehead. Clark hummed at the feeling and Bruce kept on kissing. He doesn’t want this to end. “Come on Superman. Shower time.”

“No.” Clark pouted. “No shower. Just bed. And cuddles.” He grabbed Bruce and flipped him, wrapping him in covers before he could even open his mouth to object.

“Clark I’m filthy, I can’t-”

“If we shower we’ll just need to wash again when we wake up.” He looked pointedly at the stained bedding. “Or we’d have to change the bedding right now and i’m too tired for that.” He rested his head of the feather pillow and closed his eyes.

“Clark, let go of me.” Bruce demanded, but Clark doesn't need superpowers to sense the smile in his voice.

“No can do Bruce. I told you. We’re attached. Clark Kent fanny pack mode activated.” Bruce laughed and attempted to wiggle his way free, but gave up after a few half hearted attempts. Sighing in defeat, he fell back into Clark’s embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWKWARD DORKS BEING AWKWARD DORKS IN THE BEDROOM IS MY JAM.
> 
> So yeah, this isn't what I would call your run of the mill gratuitous sex chapter. I gotta be honest sex scenes kinda bore me in fics, its all dick goes in, dick goes out. So when I write them they tend to be a lot like the chapter above. I can't say when the next of these chapters will be, it kinda depends on how people respond to this one, so remember to kudos and comment! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> Until next time B)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello hello! Another chapter up!
> 
> This one took a tad longer than it should have as I had it mostly finished but was sidetracked quiet majorly by something I brought. I got a bunch of copic markers and you just knOW I HAD TO DRAW SCENES FROM MY OWN FANFIC LIKE THE LOSER I AM WITH THEM!

It was early when Clark woke if the limited amount of light streaming into the room was anything to go by. Even with the drapes blocking most of the window, Clark could see a sliver of overcast sky and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to go back to sleep, he just wanted to savour this moment. 

Bruce laid curled up next to him, his hand resting gently on Clark’s arm. It was strange what such little contact did to him. All of sudden he wasn’t dreading the day he had ahead of him. A day of Lois getting mad because his article, which he hadn’t actually gotten around to writing yet, would be subpar. A day of being without Bruce. Without Cyrus. In that moment though, Clark couldn’t bring himself to care. 

He didn’t take much notice of how much time passed after he awoke. He spent the time watching Bruce’s face, calm and untroubled until eventually the man in question shifted, opening his eyes slowly and blinking up at Clark. “Morning.” He said, his voice clouded.

“Mornin’ Bruce.” Clark leant closer, kissing the top of Bruce’s head. “How did you sleep?” 

Bruce hummed as he moved closer. “Good.” With a yawn, he spoke. “Really good actually. How long have you been awake?” 

Clark attempted a shrug that he hoped didn’t betray how long he’d been awake and definitely not how much he’d been staring. “Not that long.”

“Right.” Bruce said as he burrowed himself under Clark’s jaw. “What time is it?” 

Clark looked back to the slight slit in the curtain and there now seemed to be sun coming through the clouds. Bruce however did not need to know that. “Still early I think. We got time.” He wondered if Lois would murder him if he called in sick? Probably.

That roose however was shattered by a quiet knock on the door. After a moment it opened letting Alfred poke his head through. “Ah, master Bruce, you are awake. It is 7:30. Should I prepare breakfast?” 

Bruce shifted his position to better look at Alfred, his hair was far more ruffled than Clark realised, and the obvious pile of clothes on the floor made Clark’s face heat up in embarrassment. It couldn’t be more obvious what they had done last night unless they had a giant sign proclaiming it above the bed. Bruce however didn't seem to share his worries, stretching his arm out with a yawn. “Are the boys still here?”

Alfred gave a nod. “They are indeed. If you wish to make breakfast I suggest coming down soon.” Clark almost thought he wasn’t going to say anything about the state of the room but quickly Alfred cast his eyes down to the clothes on the floor. “Ensure anything you have for washing is in your hamper.” With that he closed the door, and Clark’s face could not be redder if it tried. 

“You know maybe I should have listened to you about cleaning up before bed.” Clark said quietly as he eyed a particularly overt stain on the covers. The black bedding really wasn’t helping matters either. 

Bruce lifted his head and cast a look around the room, before shrugging. “Alfred’s seen worse.” Clark would have questioned further had it not been for Bruce slowly extracting himself from Clark and giving another yawn. The lose of contact had Clark reaching for Bruce, loosely wrapping his hand around his wrist. Bruce gave him a playful smile. “If you want breakfast Kent I suggest letting me go.” Clark’s stomach seemed to agree with the sentiment, and reluctantly he let go. 

Bruce went to the dresser and quickly threw on some clothes, when he opened the door he turned to Clark. “Breakfast should be done in about 15 minutes. Maybe have a shower.” As he went to step out he abruptly stopped. “Oh, and can you bring Cyrus down?” 

When Clark was alone he arose from bed. He had possibly the quickest shower of his life which involved little more than throwing soap on himself and standing under the water until it was all gone. After spraying himself liberally with some of Bruce’s cologne he dressed himself as adequately as possible. He really was a master of making designer labels look like bargain bin knockoffs. 

After successfully wrangling Cyrus from his position on the ceiling canopy, Clark made his way downstairs. The kitchen was already engulfed in the smell of food and Clark felt his stomach rumble. 

There was a buzz of activity by the time he walked in. Alfred stood juicing oranges at the counter, whist Bruce flipped pancakes beside him. Dick was quietly pawing around in the kitchen cupboards, before finding the one where the cereal was kept, muttering a quiet ‘ah ha’ under his breath. Jason sat at the counter, his hands wrapped around a cup of coffee and his head rose as Clark walked in.

“Morning all.” Clark said as he took his seat beside Cyrus’ high chair. As soon as he sat a bowl of oatmeal was being handed to him, a swirl of red coulis already on it. Clark found that the first spoonful held in front of Cyrus’ nose was enough to change his grumbles from being awoken into something more positive. 

“Morning blue.” Dick said as he sat at the counter. He gestured to the plethora of food. “Please be sure to eat plenty. Bruce seems to think we’re feeding half of Gotham this morning.” 

Bruce merely shrugged as he brought over a plate of mushed up fruit and placed it next to the rapidly dwindling bowl of oatmeal. “Clark happens to eat a lot, and you boys are here so-” he flourished his hand over the spread of food as way of explanation.

Jason gave a short laugh. “You do realise Dickie’s just gonna eat cereal right?” Dick seemed as though he was going to object before shrugging and digging into his bowl. 

Bruce’s brows drew together as he crossed his arms. “You and Tim are still eating, though.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “I’m good with coffee thanks.” 

That apparently was the wrong thing to say, as Alfred turned, his eyes narrowed to slits through his mouth still held a smile. “You aren't eating breakfast, master Jason?” His voice was suspiciously even, and the way Jason’s eyes widened indicated he heard this voice a lot growing up. 

Jason pursed his lips together. “What- no. Of course I am.” He stretched across the counter and piled his plate with all the food within his reach. “I’m gonna eat so much breakfast, it all looks so great- please stop looking at me like that.” He sat back in his seat with a thump and started eating. Bruce sent a nod to Alfred before going back to making more pancakes. 

Clark himself was drooling at the spread, to the point he would have commented of Jason's lack of appetite if Alfred hadn’t. Fresh berries, pancakes, jugs of orange juice and platters of cold cuts. He hoped Cyrus would eat quickly, or that he developed psychic powers to transport food to his mouth. 

Perhaps sensing his lover's dilemma, when Bruce went to put more pancakes down on the counter, he loaded up a plate for Clark, filled with everything Clark had his eyes on. “Dig in.” He said as he set the plate down. 

Which is exactly what Clark did, he practically hoovered the food down his gullet, and didn't even notice the looks he was getting from Jason and Dick. 

It was then that Tim came in, his hair a series of tufts sticking up in every direction. He yawned and walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself a mug before sitting beside Cyrus. Cyrus himself looked over to the new addition, and to the amazement of Clark ignored the spoonful of oatmeal held in front of him. It took a moment for Clark to realise why.

“Jeez, you two haven't been properly introduced have you?” Clark put the spoon down and lifted Cyrus from his seat. 

Tim had a bemused smile as he looked from Clark to the baby in his lap, bringing his coffee to his lips. “Bruce told me about him when he called. Also Kon told me. Also, you know, I kinda saw him last night.” 

“Yeah, but you haven't ‘met’ him.” Clark stood up and brought Cyrus down onto Tim’s lap. “Cy, meet Tim. He’s your uncle.” 

Tim went rigid as the baby was placed on him, but Cyrus remained interested regardless, moving to get a better look at his face. Eventually not content for Tim to just stare at him he brought his hands up to touch Tim’s face, probing particularly at his lips which couldn’t help but slowly grow to a smile. 

“He’s like a miniature version of you Clark.” He said as he bobbed Cyrus on his knees. 

“That’s sort of the way cloning works, Timbo.” Jason said through a mouth of pancake.

“Don’t talk with a full mouth.” Bruce said turning his head to Jason, who in return held his hands up in defeat before giving an exaggerated swallow.

“He’s adorable that’s what he is!” Dick said, leaving his cereal to play with Cyrus. “I just wanna eat you right up, yes I do!” He tickled under Cyrus’s arms, eliciting quite a violent giggle if Tim’s sudden lurch on his stool was anything to go by.

“Jesus he is strong…” Tim said quietly, setting his coffee back down, though most of it was now on the floor. Clark scooped Cyrus back into his arms. “I forget sometimes how strong you guys really are...” 

Clark sometimes forgot that fact himself. He trained himself from a young age to be careful around humans, a bump on the shoulder to him could be a broken arm to them so it proved pertinent to learn how to control himself. It took a while for him to get as proficient as he was, being able to gauge his strength accurately, but it wasn't always like that. The amount of times he’d ripped door off their hinges growing up were too many to count. 

Bruce paused at the table as he set down another batch of pancakes. Clark almost told him he didn’t need to make anymore, but picked one up from the pile and ate it as is and decided against it. He could always eat the leftovers for lunch. 

Clark looked at Bruce’s curious expression as he munched on the pancake. His eyes were on Cyrus and his lips were drawn into a fine line. “Bruce?” Clark asked quietly, tempted to wave a hand in front of his face.

“He’s fine.” Bruce said finally.

“Yeah?”

“He’s fine, Clark.” Bruce said his voice slightly giddy. 

“Okay.” Clark said slowly. “So he’s fine, what does-” and then it hit him. “He’s fine!” 

Bruce gave a frantic nod. “Sit down, let me look at him more closely…” Clark did as told and sure enough Bruce rushed forward, examining Cyrus’ face and body. Cyrus for the most part didn't mind the prodding, perhaps just liking the attention, but Bruce’s face was stoic as he examined him. “I mean, it doesn’t make sense really, unless his glands have malformed and are now producing the hormone for him, which would be bad.” He used his hands to grip boths sides of Cyrus’ tummy and press on the area. Cyrus gave a squeal but otherwise made no complaints. “Or, I don’t know… Perhaps his body isn’t as reliant on it anymore? I mean we aren't putting him through tests like they did at Cadmus.” 

“Or, he’s getting his energy from the sun, like master Clark.” Alfred offered quietly as he juiced another orange. Bruce’s eyes grew wide at the sentence. 

“The sun.” He repeated, letting the idea sink into his head. “He didn’t get any sun whilst at Cadmus. I doubt any of the babies did. They were all underground facilities. Maybe the hormone injections kickstarted production but now his body is taking over due to the sun- Alfred!” He turned his head his head to the man, his voice sharp. “We need sunlamps in the Batcave.”

“Of course master Bruce.” He said easily, moving over to the table to grab the empty plates as well as rest a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Perhaps we should replace some of the old drapes in the manor with a thinner variety as well? It would allow more light in.” 

Bruce nodded though it seemed more automatic as his eyes stayed firmly on Cyrus. He stopped his examination of Cyrus, who seemed to grumble as Bruce pulled away. “I just…” Bruce went quiet. “I want to do a more thorough examination later, but for now…” He reached for Cyrus, easing him into his arms and Cyrus eagerly stretched forward, mumbling ‘ba’s’ as he nuzzled into his neck. “If he doesn’t need it, we don’t have to inject him.” He was smiling unabashedly and Clark couldn't stop grinning either. 

“Not that this heartfelt moment isn't just the cutest thing. I gotta go.” Jason stood up and reached for Tim’s half drunk mug of coffee, downing it in one swig. “Laters.” He gave a mock salute to Bruce, who rolled his eyes.

“Just try not to get arrested again Jason, or if you do make sure it’s not by family.” Bruce sent a look to Dick who frowned back in confusion.

“What do you mean B?” He asked, whilst Jason’s face seemed to drain of all blood.

The smile slowly dropped from Bruce’s face before his expression mirrored Dick’s own look of confusion. “When Jason came to the cave last, he said you arrested him-” he looked at Jason who was now biting his bottom lip, his hands in tight fists by his side. “-He said that’s when you told him about Cyrus...”

Dick’s eyebrows flew up as he let out a bark of laughter. “What? That’s not what happened!” He gave Jason an incredulous look. “What, you want B to think you’re a bad boy still Jay?” He grinned. “No, what really happened was-”

“Right, well, I better be going-” Jason went for the door, but one look from Bruce was enough to have Clark stand in front of it, casually folding his arms. With nowhere to go Jason turned back into the room, all eyes now on him.

Dick jumped forward in his seat, his hands outstretched. “Right, so there I was in the cereal isle, minding my own business, when down walks mister ‘bad boy’ Jason with a cart. When he saw me, he tried to get away but before he could I told him about how I went to visit it you, and that you had a baby now. He looked like I just caught him jerking off in the bathroom or something and when i’m finished talking, he bolts! Leaves the cart and runs. Now i’m not usually an inquisitive soul but when I looked in the cart, guess what I saw-”

“Dick.” Jason said, and the tone caught everyone. It was fragile and in mere seconds Dick lofty attitude disappeared. 

“-It was full of porn. Lots of porn. And condoms. That was all.” He finished lamely, and Jason gave a small sigh of relief. 

Bruce, ignoring the obvious mood change, heaved a sigh. “I’m not mad Jason. I’m sure you had your reasons for lying, but please, don’t lie to me about that.”

“Okay B… I won’t do it again.” Clark didn’t need to be a detective to know he meant it. “Now I really do need to get going.” He said the last part to Clark, who stepped out of the way to let him past. 

The door closed with a soft click and after a few beats Tim turned his head to Dick. “What was really in the cart?” 

Dick gave a half smile, leaning his head on his hand as he brought more cereal to his lips. “Porn and condoms, Timmy. Didn’t you listen?”

Probably sensing he wasn't going to get a straight answer, Tim rolled his eyes and went back to his own breakfast. 

After a sizeable dent was made to the spread of food, everyone proceeded to go about their day. Dick went back to Bludhaven and Tim went upstairs to his room. Alfred of course had the washing, leaving Clark with Bruce and Cyrus. Though the former seemed perturbed, his fingers drumming against the counter surface.

“Pass me those apples.” Bruce said eventually, his hand stretched across the counter. Clark eyed the bowl in question, before concern filled his face.

“Uh, Bruce. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He said. “Apples.” His hand was still outstretched, and Clark picked up the bowl of apples and handed it to Bruce who quickly stood up to wash them.

“Whatcha doin?” Clark asked quietly.

Bruce didn’t reply, keeping his head down as he resolutely scrubbed the apples. Alfred walked back in and perhaps seeing Bruce's hunched shoulders over the sink and Clark’s look of loss, gave a short cough. “Don’t mind master Bruce, he has a tendency to bake rather aggressively when stressed.”

Bruce’s head snapped to Alfred, but no words left his gaping mouth. Apparently one look from the Englishman was enough to shut up any member of the clan, and Bruce simply bit his lips. Alfred didn’t even bat an eye at the expression and walked out through the veranda doors with a bundle of washing. Once gone, Clark gave a small smile. “You stress bake?”

Bruce brought his apples to the counter and started to peel them with a tad more force than was strictly required. “Yes. Is that an issue?”

“No.” Clark said, smirking. “It’s just cute is all.” 

With now pink cheeks Bruce cleared his throat. “It’s not cute.”

“Oh yeah it is, I thought you baking in general was cute, but stress baking? The idea of you coming home after a bad day at work and making muffins?” He shook his head. “Adorable.”

“I-” Bruce couldn’t speak though, his face thoroughly reddened and mouth a thin line. He steadied his breathing and turned from Clark, raiding the cupboard for the rest of the ingredients he needed. When he came back he was collected. “It helps.” He said tersely. 

Bruce began to weigh out butter and beat it in a bowl. “Help’s how exactly?” Clark asked.

He poured the sugar into the bowl and began stirring thoughtfully. “You remember that walnut cake I made for Ray?” 

Clark nodded. 

“Well, it wasn’t a complete lie when I said Alfred made it. I thought I was going to be busy with work when you left, so I asked Alfred to make the cake.” He began sifting in the floor, white dust flying onto the counter tops. “I was down in the cave when Cyrus started to get worse and I couldn’t just sit there, so I went up and told Alfred i’d make it instead. Bakings always been something I can just lose myself in. I forget everything else, and just-” he shrugged and went over to the fridge and pulled out the milk. “That probably sounds really weird doesn't it?” 

Clark smiled. “No it doesn't. Everyone’s got their own ways of dealing with stress... For me it’s ‘eating’ baked goods that helps.” He winked when he noticed Bruce’s smirk. “It also shows that we are truly made for eachother.” Bruce laughed at that and began chopping the apples into fine pieces. Clark however turned a careful eye to Bruce and asked. “But I gotta ask... Why did you still tell me it was Alfred who made it?” 

Bruce stopped and met Clarks gaze. “I’m so used to giving Alfred credit, it’s become a force of habit.”

“But why?” He leant forward.

“You’re being quiet inquisitive today.” Bruce said softly.

Clark held up his hand in submission, though the effect was lost somewhat with Cyrus being clamped firmly under his other arm to prevent him for reaching for the bowl of cake batter. “I’m just curious is all. I mean if we’re gonna do this-” he waved he hand between himself and Bruce. “I wanna know all about you. Every detail.” 

Bruce gave a small nod, swiping his finger into the batter and holding it to Cyrus who eagerly devoured it. “Is it good Cy?” With a loud gurgle, Cyrus’ battle for the bowl intensified in earnest and Bruce smiled. “You can eat more when it’s cooked...” Bruce began scooping the batter into muffin cases and eyed Clark. “Anyway Clark, you’re the investigative journalist. Tell me, why do ‘you’ think I do it?” 

More than anything Clark wished he could read minds in that one instance. Bruce’s stare was calm, collected and revealed absolutely nothing. Clark also couldn't deny the practical minefield set up in front of him. He really didn't want this morning to end with cake batter on his head. 

“Uh…” Clark started, though his mouth hardly cooperated with helping to produce the rest of the sentence. “You, um, don’t-” Clark shook his head. “Yeah I got nothing.”

Luckily Bruce gave a smile at that. “It’s a good thing then that you have a day of work to think about it.” He gave a pointed look at his watch, before putting the tray of muffins in the oven. “Speaking of which, you better get going.” 

Clark looked down to his own watch, his eyes bulging in their sockets.“Oh lord-” He mumbled as he stood up abruptly, trusting Cyrus into Bruce’s waiting arms. “Alright, i’ll, uh- bye!” He rushed through the veranda doors, ignoring Alfred’s look of alarm as Clark flew past him in a blur. 

Lois was going to kill him.

And yet he knew he was ‘still’ going to spend his day thinking of Bruce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like that Bruce just makes pancakes for like the majority of this chapter... I love me some domestic bliss in the Batclan, well as blissful as the Batclan can get anyway. :P
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Comment and kudos if you did and I'll see you all next time. B)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *quietly enters the room holding a stack of cue cards before immediately dropping them all over the floor.*
> 
> Uh, hey everyone. So uh, i'm not dead! Just, well... Honestly I've been having a rough few months, lots of stress and loss of motivation for anything really. It happens to me sometimes, my brain just goes 'nah' and it's like an artblock only 150% worse as its less of a block and more so a complete vacancy. 
> 
> Anyway! I have another chapter for you, I hope its good. I know it's not worth the- *quickly checks how many months since the last update* -Fuck, 5 month wait. Uh. Yeah, to all two of you who have stuck around, hello, and welcome to the horrifically slow train that I have somehow been made the conductor of.
> 
> If it makes you feel any better I have two rough chapter drafts done along with this finished one. So fingers crossed I'll have another one up for you guys soon. Anyway, enough rambling. Enjoy :)

Clark wasn't aware it was possible to feel physical pain from a glare, but Lois managed to accomplish it as he stumbled into work ten minutes late.

 

Her eyes were on him from the moment he was in view. Before he could get a word out, Perry walked from his office. Clark felt his stomach drop, but before he could work out an excuse Perry spoke, barely looking up from his paper. “Don’t worry Kent, I heard there was a pile up on the highway from Gotham. Good to have you back.” He walked off and left Clark to heave a sigh of relief.

  
That relief however was short lived as Lois approached him. “Well Smallville, you did it again.” She ground out, her lips in a thin line. “You better have something good for me, I heard what happened at the gala and I want something that’s gonna compete with the Gotham Gazette.” 

 

“Uh.” Clark said and seeing how Lois’s eyes flared from the word led the rest of the sentence to spill out. “Yeah, I have a rough draft written, i’m just gonna do the final cut now.” He gestured to his computer, attempting to maintain an air of casualness, which if he knew his own poker face probably looked more like the squirmings of a child.   
  
Lois however seemed placated for the moment and Clark counted his blessings. He went to his desk, and when the screen booted up he typed away. 

 

It wasn’t his best work, but feeling Lois's stare on him as he typed didn’t help matters. He tried to keep it light, drawing attention to what the event stood for but also reporting on Lex’s last minute appearance and the rogues along side Batman causing the night to draw to an early end. After he was finished he sent the draft to Lois, who replied with one word: ‘good’.

 

Which was the equivalent of: ‘it will do.’ 

 

Clark thanked every God he could think of and with the main labour of the day done, he spent the rest of it helping out around the place as best he could. Apparently even a short absence in the office caused work to pile up, and Clark found himself proofreading and editing well on through to the end of the day.

 

He didn't even realise it was home time until he felt Lois’s hand on his shoulder. “You coming?” 

  
Clark looked at his watch before nodding, he got up and turned off his computer. “Did the article go to print okay?”

 

She nodded. “Yeah, made a few adjustments but Perry seemed happy.” She opened the door and they stepped out into the stairwell. “It must have been something, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy?” She gave a small shiver. “Then again I expected nothing less from a Bruce Wayne party.”

 

“I know. With luck my next job in Gotham won't be as eventful.”

 

Lois however gave a wry smile at that. “Smallville, if it means us getting a front page worthy story again, i'm hoping it will be.

 

Clark only rolled his eyes as he opened the front door for her, she stepped through and Clark gave a small wave to the caretaker currently cleaning the floors. “So, any plans this evening?” He asked as he turned to her.

 

“You mean asides from wine and tv you mean?” She pondered for a moment. “Nope, not particularly. You?”

 

Clark knew what he _wanted_ to do, but being back in Metropolis made him realize how much he had been neglecting it. “Even better. _Grocery shopping_.” 

 

Lois covered her mouth with her hand. “You absolute madman.”

 

“I know right, next i'll be doing my tax returns.”

 

“Whoa.” Lois laughed. “One thing at a time Clark. Don't want to overdose on excitement.”

 

“True.” Clark have a nod. “Tomorrow evening then.” 

  
  
“Better.” She came forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Anyway, as I said, my wine calls. See you tomorrow Clark, enjoy your evening.” She let go and turned, making her way down the street. For a moment Clark stared after her as she slowly disappeared into the crowd.

 

It felt weird being back in Metropolis. He was so used to Gotham’s cramped streets and old buildings looming all around, that Metropolis felt almost clinical in comparison. He couldn't however just forgo Metropolis entirely. He still worked there for one (in both senses of the word) and he also had an apartment which he had to make sure looked like he still lived in it. The last thing he needed was for his landlord to start snooping and wondering where Clark was half the time.

 

Hence his currently pacing up and down the aisles of a supermarket. He mainly grabbed canned goods, things that would keep in his cupboards and that he'd hopefully only eat as a last resort. He brought some fresh food with the intention of bringing it back home to Bruce. Clark had a hankering for pie and hopefully Bruce could take the hint with all the stuff he was buying.

 

He had already called Bruce to say he may be late tonight, but other than food shopping he didn't really need to do much. He placed the bag of flour into his basket and made his way into the next aisle, stopping by the end of it as he spied a familiar face. 

 

Jason stood in the middle of the aisle, looking up and down the shelves, his face scrunched up in concentration. He hadn't seen Clark yet thankfully, so he took the opportunity to move back into his aisle, pressing close to the bags of sugar. He found his curiosity peaked. Why Jason was in a supermarket in Metropolis? Clark couldn’t understand. He made to approach him when someone else did.

 

“Jay! They’re over here.” A man walked toward Jason, cart laden with food and a happy toddler in the booster seat. Clark tried not to look too shocked at the way Jason turned calmly to them.

  
“I know babe, i’m looking for baby food.” He gestured to the wall in front of him.

 

“Oh, okay.” The other man said as he too turned his attention to the wall, picking up a few pots and placing them in the cart. “I was meaning ask why you didn't get any last time” 

 

“I ran into Dickie.” The mention of his name seemed to make the other tense up, Jason didn’t seem to notice however as he grabbed a few of the pots himself. “At first he didn't see the cart, you know how he is when he talks. When he finished though and looked down. I knew he was gonna ask about it all, and well I didn't want  _ that  _ conversation, so I just bolted.” Jason stuffed the list he was holding into his pocket and reached for the toddler in the cart. She came happily, giggling as she wrapped her arms around Jason's neck.

  
“Well that explains why you made us come all the way here to shop...” The other man said, moving the cart slowly down the aisle. “Less likely for the clan to catch you.”   
  


Clark was keenly aware he was eavesdropping on something he definitely should not be listening in on, but he couldn't help it. After receiving a few errant looks from some of the old ladies near him he too walked down the aisle, peering through the metal shelves and focusing on their voices.

  
“Well you'd think that, but B is finally with big blue.”

  
“Whoa, really? I mean good for them and all, but won’t he-”

 

“I don’t think so. He stays in Gotham a lot now thanks to the baby. Pretty sure he only comes to Metropolis for his job, so it works out well…”

  
  
“Not really if he have to drive an hour to shop every other day.”

 

“I’m sorry. I know i’m being paranoid, but I can’t risk B-.”   
  


“I know Jay, I just want  _ you  _ to know you're gonna have to tell him eventually. This kinda stuff won’t stay secret for long, in fact i’d say the longer you don't tell him the worse it will be.”

 

There was long pause where Clark could only hear the rustle of clothing, eventually Jason sighed. “I know. But I don’t know how i’d tell him, I know the minute I say ‘oh hey Bruce, you know that guy you'd say you'd disown me if I ever saw again? Yeah, well now we're dating and have a kid. See ya!” 

 

“He really said he'd disown you?”

 

“You remember what we were like when we were kids, Roy. B ain’t gonna easily forget all that.”

  
“Yeah I get that, but, disown you? Seems kinda harsh. It’s more likely to be a month of silent treatment and a whole lotta ‘i'm disappointed in you’ lectures.”

  
“God, if anything that's way worse...” 

 

“Anyway, I know you wouldn't tell him like that, you'd say ‘father, I am in love with a really nice man who has a beautiful daughter and we are very happy together.’ Just don't tell him my name and we’ll be good to go.”

 

“He’ll recognize you.”

  
  
“Not if I grew a really nice moustache.”

 

“Roy…”

 

“-cause I can grow a pretty great moustache.” 

 

“ _ Roy _ .”

  
“Jay, i’ll do whatever you want me to do. Keep a low profile? I’ll do it. Walk with you into the literally dragons den and face the firing squad? I’ll do that too. But maybe we should finish up and head on home, Lian looks like shes- yup, yeah she's falling asleep…” 

 

“We just need bread and cereal and we’re good to go.” 

 

Clark listened as they walked away and rushed to the checkout, he hasn't brought much and was out of the store before he saw either two men again. Good lord, if that Roy was the one he was thinking off, Jason was right to be cautious. 

 

Roy Harper was somewhat of a taboo subject in the Justice League. Once Oliver’s adoptive son, he was now a known outlaw. A rebellious nature combined with an addictive personality meant troubled youth in the Queen household. Oliver thought by making him his sidekick it would help to channel his energy into something positive, but it all went south very quickly. Roy took his training and left. Not much is know about what he’s done since, but a slew of crimes involving a man looking very much like Roy with the name ‘Arsenal’ told enough. Oliver never mentioned him anymore, as if he never existed, and Clark had to hand it to Bruce. No matter how snide of a remark Ollie made about him he never once threw Roy at him as a comeback. 

 

After he’d set the bags of food on the counter of his apartment he found himself stuck. He couldn't even begin to fathom what he was going to do let alone what he should do. He only had one idea, and he was still deciding if it was a terrible one as he was making his way to Dick’s house.

  
Bludhaven was smaller than Gotham, with more quaint side streets and old ladies walking as slow as the laws of motion would allow. Dick lived in an rickety apparent block in Bludhaven’s old district. Most of it was getting a major face lift by the council, but the street where Dick resided was yet to be affected. Lines of clothing still hung above, and even as night drew nearer kids still played outside.

 

He could see why most people were moving from Gotham to Bludhaven. It seemed to have all of Gotham's charm without the literal rogues gallery causing havoc.

 

When he knocked, Dick opened the door, his hair a mess of tangles. Clark would have thought it was from sleep but it was well into the evening by now and he just put it down to Dick’s unique sense of style. He was chewing when he looked Clark up and down, raising his bowl up at him in greeting. “Sup blue.”

 

“Hey Dick, I don’t suppose I could come in?” 

 

Dick didn't say anything, just stepped to the side and made a grand sweeping gesture into the room. It was clean for the most part, well, cleaner than Clark would have thought it would be. Being that before Cyrus he too was a single man living on his own he knew how messy things could get if allowed to get out of hand. So the few errant piece of cloth strewn about didn’t even phase him. 

 

He made his way over to the sofa and sat down. Dick soon joined him, spoon hanging from his mouth and eyes narrowed. “Is everything okay?” He asked cautiously and Clark couldn’t help but cough.

 

“Well, it's just that. I need to talk to you about something, and it can’t get back to Bruce.”

 

Dicks eyes remained slits before they burst open to join the grin plastered on his face. “Are you going to propose to him? Oh my God! Clark! I mean, I know it’s soon, but by God you two-”

 

“No.” Clark blurted out, his face beet red. “No Dick i’m not asking Bruce to marry me.”

 

“Oh.” Dick said, a tad too dejectedly. “Well that sucks. I was so excited.” He sighed and joined Clark on the couch. “Just to let you know, for future reference, he would definitely say yes.”   
  


“Yes, thank you Di-”

 

“Seriously. Like, if you were to go right now and do it. He’d say yes. No hesitation. Guarantee or your money back.”   
  


“Dick.” 

 

“Okay, okay…” He placed his bowl down and held his hands up in defeat. “So what did you really want to talk to me about then?” 

 

“Well, it's more…” He really should have thought about what he was going to say, but any time he did it ended up with him being more unsure than when he started. “It’s about Jason.”

 

“Right.” Dick said evenly, his skepticism evident.

 

“Okay, so, uh, it about what was in the shopping cart the other day.” Clark said as way of introduction and Dick frowned back.

 

“Why do you care if he's buying porn-”

 

“No no no-” He rolled his eyes. “I mean, I know what was _really_ in the shopping cart…” Dick was still dubious, and Clark lent forward. “Baby stuff, right?”

 

Dicks face remained guarded, but after a moment it crumpled revealing a look of pure relief. “Thank God someone else knows! I thought I was gonna go crazy, Jay must have a baby or something and I-” He took a few shaky breaths. “How did you find out?”

  
  
“Well…” Clark said, rubbing a hand against his neck. “I uh, was just shopping in Metropolis, and I saw him, then I saw a man with a baby in the cart walk over and they started talking and it seems Jason is in a relationship with him.”

 

Dick went quiet as he took it all in. “I just don’t get it… I mean, Bruce is a bi as they come and it’s not like he wouldn’t approve of Jason settling down. Why is he hiding it?”

 

“I can also answer that.” Clark said tersely. Dick’s head whirled on him, eyes wide. “You see, I kinda, maybe, listened in on their conversation, which I know is really really bad, but I just-” he pursed his lips. “I was worried, and well, I heard what his name is and I can understand why Jason doesn’t want Bruce to know about it.”

  
“Who is it?” Dick asked quietly.

  
“Roy Harper.”

 

It took a moment for the name to register in Dick’s mind but when it did he did not immediately speak, instead slowly letting his head fall into his hands. “Ohh fuuuck…” 

 

“See. Thats a bad thing isn't it?” He said as he watched Dick curl in on himself.

 

“It’s a horrible thing!” Dick yelled as he jumped up from the couch his arms held high. “A catastrophic implosion of shit! Roy is bad news Clark, really bad news, and Jason is-” Dick was now pacing to and throw and Clark could do nothing but watch. “And you said they have a kid? Jesus…”

 

“What can we do?” 

 

Dick paused, his face resolute. “We have to tell Bruce, if a childs involved we can’t just let them-”

 

“But.” Clark was conflicted, he knew he came here to listen to Dick’s opinion but now he was hearing it he was having regrets. “I  _ saw _ them Dick. They looked happy, the little girl, I think they said her name was Lian? She was smiling, and Roy looked okay as well… I’m worried too, but-”   
  


“No. Clark you don’t get it. Roy was-” Dick sighed, and sat back down. “Roy was a good friend of mine years back and I saw what he became. What he's capable of. We _need_ to tell Bruce.”  

 

“Right. About that.” Clark pressed his hands together. “I just think that would be a bad idea.” 

 

Dick gave him a look that Clark could only assume he had acquired from Bruce. “We have to tell him.” It was firm, no room for negotiation and Clark sighed.   
  
“I get that, but we can't just do that to Jason. We have to see what he thinks. From what I heard he wanted to tell Bruce himself anyway, maybe we can just push him to do it a bit sooner.”

 

Dick slowly nodded seeming to contemplate Clark’s words. “Okay then. Lets go talk to him.”

 

Clark balked. “What, now?”

  
Again that look. Fierce determination. Definitely Bruce. “Yes now.” 

 

“But how? We don't know where they live, or-”

 

“Do you forget your Superman sometimes or are you really that humble?” Dick’s face, despite his annoyance, had a sly smirk. “You’ll find them in no time Clark.”

  
“I mean…”

 

“Come on blue!” Dick jumped forward, wrapping his arms around him “Make haste noble steed!”

 

Clark pressed his lips together, but if Dick really was Bruce's son. He knew there was no backing out now.

 

Why did he get the feeling this was going to be a long night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know. I know. 5 months and I give you drama and intrigue. Where is Cyrus you cry? he is somewhere, most likely eating some form of baked good. Till next time guys!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
> 
> Yeah, I wasn't lying when I said I had this and the next chapter nearly ready. Can't say the next one will be out as quick as I'm going away soon and won't really be able to work much on the chapter. Then I have more work when I get back so............................ yaaaaay..................
> 
> Anyway. Please enjoy.

“Are you sure this is the place?”

 

When Clark landed in a small suburb of Gotham, where the buildings looked decidedly more quaint and humble than he was expecting, he had to agree with Dick, this really wasn't what he was expecting either.

 

There was a swing set visible in the back garden, a few errant toys strewn around the front lawn. If it weren't for the heartbeats coming from inside he really would have thought he'd gotten it wrong too, but no. “This is the place.”

  
  
Dick didn't look at him for a moment, eyeing the literal picket fence in front of him. “Really?”

 

“Definitely.” Clark made his way forward, looking back to Dick who seemed decidedly less confident than he had been earlier. “Hey, I flew you here, I've done my part.” He gestured to the door. “This is all you.” At Dick’s impassive expression, Clark rolled his eyes. “Before we got here you seemed awful eager, now-”  
  
“Yeah, yeah. Gimme a minute Clark.” Dick waved his hand and heaved a breath. “Just… preparing.”

  
  
Clark’s stare softened. “Okay.” He laid a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Take it easy alright? We’re just gonna talk, nothing too serious.”

 

“Right.” Dick gave a resolute nod. “Let’s do this.”

 

They walked the rest of the way across the grass, stepping over an abandoned pair of small roller blades, Clark reached the door first but waited until Dick was beside him to press the doorbell.

 

There was movement from inside. From what Clark could see they were all sat in the living room, and soon someone approached the door. He steeled himself. It was gonna be fine.

 

When the door opened, Roy stood there for a moment his face calm before it slowly turned to alarm as he realised who it was. “Dick?!” Roy practically yelled. “What are you-” Clark could hear Jason getting up from inside and opened his mouth to speak.

  
“Hey Roy.” Dick said before he could. “How goes fucking my brother?”

 

God dammit. Clark tried to interject but Jason was there. “What the hell is-” but he stopped as he clocked them, his face turning cold.

  
Come on Clark. Use your words

  
“Uh.”

 

Great job. Gold star.

 

“We uh.” He gulped. “We just came to talk?”

 

Jason grabbed the door. “I have nothing to say to either of you. Fuck off.” He made to slam it but Dick’s foot was there braced against the wood.

  
  
“Oh, yes you do. Otherwise i’m going to have a nice long conversation with Bruce about all this.” It was a threat and Jason’s eyes narrowed at it.

  
  
“You-” His hand tightened on the door. “Roy, put Lian to bed.”

 

“Are you-”

 

“ _Now_.”

 

Roy popped his lips. “Yup. Alright. On it.”

 

He quickly made his way from the door, going inside to scoop up the curious toddler and make his way upstairs. Jason and Dick remained standing, their eyes locked with no apparent end in sight. He never saw this side of either of them; a strange mix of protectiveness and outright rage bubbling under the surface for both. Clark leant forward placing his hand on the door frame.

  
“Can we come in Jason?” Clark offered though neither of them looked at him. “Please. We really do just want to talk.”

 

It took a minute but eventually Jason’s grip loosened on the door and Dick moved his foot. A fragile truce seemingly struck, Clark soon found himself being led into the hallway.

 

Photos littered the walls, some old, some new and Clark looked at them all as he stepped in. Dick closed the door after himself, standing against it. Jason stood with them, his arms crossed and his stare hard. “Well. Talk.”

  
“I want to wait for Roy.” Dick said tersely. “I believe he has some explaining to do.”

  
  
“He doesn't have to explain shit to you.” Jason stepped forwards, his arms suddenly beside him, hands rolled into tight fists. “You got something to say, you say it to me-”

 

_“Jay.”_

 

They all looked up to Roy stood on the stairway, decidedly uncomfortable with the whole situation. With his arms crossed in front of him, it suddenly dawned on Clark how small he looked. Slender, with a gauntness to his features that didn’t just come from lack of eating. The oversized sweater he wore didn’t help matters. He made his way down the stairs. “Lian asleep?” Jason asked.

  
“Well, kinda. If you keep yelling she won’t be.” He said quietly, looking down at the floor. All at once the anger in Jason seemed to evaporate and he took a deep breath.

  
  
“Right…” He said as he opened the living room door. “Everyone in here.”

 

The living room was compact, with several love seats and arm chairs taking up a majority of the space. Despite this, no one seemed to want to be the first person to sit down so Clark made it his duty, perching himself on one of the smaller chairs. It wasn’t until he did that he realised this chair was not made for an adult.

 

Roy offered him a small smile. “Thats Lian's chair, maybe go for one of the big people seats?”

 

Clark didn’t need to be told twice, and perhaps due to the image of Superman in a child's chair the mood of the room seemed to lessen, though there was still an energy that flowed between Jason and Dick, both of whom were now the only ones to remain standing.

  
“So.” Roy offered, tenting his hands in his lap. “How have you been Dick?”

 

“Fine.” He said his eyes staying on Jason. “Yourself?”

  
  
“Alot better actually.” He said nodding. “I could tell you more if you took a seat.” He gestured to the armchair next to the sofa before petting on the spot next to him. “You too Jay.”

 

Jason seemed to be the first to end whatever was going on between the two, plopping on the sofa next to Roy and eyeing Dick up, expecting him to do the same. Dick however only moved toward the seat, remaining standing, imposing himself on the two. Clark realised he was currently watching officer Grayson at work rather than Dick and the thought made him shudder.

  
“I assume you can understand why I'm more than a little upset.” Dick’s voice was firm, with not even a hint of his usual mirth.

  
“Not really as this has fuck all to do with you.” Jason said as he crossed his arms and leaned back.

  
“Nothing to do with me?” Dick’s eyes flared up as his hands started to shake. “Do you have any idea what the man next to you has done, what I’ve seen him do? Your my _brother_ Jason, and you think that it-”   
  
“All that shit happened years ago!” Jason blew up, surging from his seat, his face right in front of Dick’s. “Are you forgetting all the shit I did when I was a kid too, Dick? Or do you just forget it all when it’s _family_.” He said the word with such venom and Dick winced.

  
“He’s killed people Jason, that's more serious than stealing tires!”

  
“He's not like that anymore! It was a phase, a stupid phase that he regrets and does his best to repent for everyday!” Jason's fists were curled tightly and Clark wondered if he was going to have to break up a brawl today as well.

  
“Murdering and drug abuse isn’t a phase, it’s-” but Dick stopped and for a moment Clark wondered why, though the small girl currently stood in the doorway with wide eyes was enough of a hint. “Oh.” Dick said softly and Roy was up from the sofa, his eyes watering.

  
  
“Lian…” He said quietly, but the girl wasn’t looking at him, only at Dick. Her eyes filled with so much anger.

  
“Stop yelling at papa.” She said firmly as she opened the door and stepped in. “You _meanie_.”

 

Dick’s face deflated, his voice quiet and broken. “I’m not, I didn't-” but no one said anything as she made her way into the room, stomping across the carpet. 

“My daddy wouldn’t hurt anyone, he’s a good person.” She crossed her arms. “You’re the one hurting people.” She pointed her finger at him and as if struck Dick seemed to crumble further.

  
  
In that moment however, whilst Dick seemed on the verge of tears and Roy was already there Jason calmly scooped up Lian into his arms and petted back her hair. “Hon, uncle Dick doesn’t mean what he said.” She opened her mouth to speak, through Jason’s petting quieted her. “He was just worried about me, and I guess we’re more similar than I thought. Both getting angry and yelling instead of using our words.”

 

Lian nodded sagely at that. “Yeah, daddy should talk more. He’s better at it than you.”

 

Jason didn’t disagree, only smiled. “Yeah he is, that’s why you’re so good at it too.” He pressed her firmly under his chin and eyed Dick. “Anyway, I think it’s bedtime now. We’re gonna keep talking down here, okay?”

 

“No yelling?” She asked quietly.

  
  
“No yelling.”

 

“Or bad words?”

  
  
He thought for a moment before sighing. “Or bad words.”

 

Lian seemed satisfied and gave a sleepy yawn. “Okay.”

 

As Jason walked out of the room, Clark felt himself releasing a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding. Roy’s head stayed firmly in his hands. Dick’s face was vacant as he stared at the door, slowly lowering himself onto the chair as Jason stepped back into the room, he kept his voice low. “Alright, now I don’t want that happening again.” He walked back to his seat. “I know you’re angry Dick. So am I. But I don’t need Lian having anymore memories of people yelling, alright?

  
“Of course.” His voice was hoarse, and he heaved a shuddery breath. “I never meant-”

  
  
“Dick it’s fine.” Jason seemed to look older than he had done earlier as he wiped his hand across his face. “Really. Lian’s a good kid and well-” he gave a small shrug. “She understands a whole lot more than other kids her age.”

 

For a moment no one spoke and Clark gave a small cough. “I know this evening hasn’t gone like any of us planned.” He gave a pointed look to Dick. “And I can only speak for myself, but I just wanted to make sure Lian was in a good home and that you were all safe and happy.” Clark leant forward and placed a hand on Roy’s shoulder. “And you guys do seem happy.”

 

  
“We are.” Jason said firmly. “And I know it’s hard for you to realise Dick, but Roy really has changed. I get it. He used to be this rebel without a cause, taking the law into his own hands, but when Lian came along. He cleaned up his act.” Jason turned his stare to Roy, who seemed to wilt under the attention, turning his head down and speaking to the floor.

  
  
“I did a lot of stupid things.” He mumbled. “I know I did. I remember waking up most mornings and thinking what I would give to just take it all back.” He sighed. “But I know I can’t. It’s why I push myself each day to do better, to make sure Lian is happy and has the most normal childhood possible. Jason-” but he had to pause, take a breath and steady himself. “Jason saved me. When everyone else left, he stayed by me, and we ended up helping each other.” He risked a glance at him and smiled. “And I like to think we’re doing alright.”

 

All were quiet as Jason and Roy looked to one another. An entire conversation being done in looks and breaths alone. Clark could understand it though, not what was said but the feeling. He could tell what Bruce was thinking purely by the quirk of his brow, or the curl of his lips. So he let them have their silent moment, savouring the feeling of peace in the air.

 

“It’s just-” Dick said softly. “I worry about you Jay.”

  
“Why?” Jason seemed genuinely confused, gesturing around the room. “I live in a house in the suburbs, Dick. I go to PTA meetings. We walk in the park on weekends. I shop for free range organic shi-” He coughed. “Stuff.” He easily reached across and pulled Roy’s hand into his own. “So when I say you don’t have to worry, you don’t.”

 

A smile slowly crept across Dicks face. “PTA meetings?” He repeated softly.

 

“Oh yeah.” Roy supplied, leaning forward. “We’re sort of a thing on the preschool parent scene. All the hot moms know us.”

 

“Wow.” Dick said as he sat back. “That does not seem like something bad boy Jason Todd would be doing, I gotta tell you.”

 

Roy smiled. “He’s a giant softy really.” Jason swatted him on the stomach causing Roy’s smile to grow. “What? You are! Remember when you borrowed one of Bruce’s cars just so you could play cops and robbers with Lian?”

 

Jason’s face grew beet red. “Shut up Roy.”

  
Dick laughed brightly. “Couldn't you use your car?”

  
“No.” Jason said sullenly. “That was Lian’s car, I mean if you have a cop and a robber you need two cars, right?” He seemed to notice the smiles directed at him and quickly pressed his lips together. “You repeat any of this to anyone Dick, I will find you, and-”

 

“Play cops and robbers with me?” He offered with a sly smirk.

 

“You're lucky I promised not to swear or you’d be having a lot of them directed at you right now I can promise you.” He muttered darkly.

 

But Dick didn’t seem at all perturbed, leaning forward with his usual easy smile. “What other dirt you got on him Roy?”

  
  
“Oh, a lot.” He nodded slowly. “I could write book about it.”

 

“Wonder how well you'd be able to write when your _dead_.” He hissed.

 

Roy seemed to register the threat and raised his hands in mock defeat. “Alright, point taken Jay.” He got up from his seat and walked over to one of the bookshelves, plucking one of the larger tomes from its place there. “What I can show you however,” he opened the book with a flourish, “is baby photos.”

 

The next hour was spent in comfortable silence, after a brief intermission to acquire coffee they all went about the task of staring at the plethora of baby photos. Some looked to be before Lian was born, with Jason and Roy looking a lot younger in far flung locations across the states. It seemed the two had indeed been close for a long time. “Was it Lian that did it?” Clark asked quietly as Roy turned another page.

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“I mean.” He smiled. “Did you get together because of Lian?”

 

This seemed to cause a flush to spread across Jason’s face as Roy laughed. “Oh God yeah, our little matchmaker. Always cried bloody murder until Jason came over. It was the reason he ended up moving in with me. She kept getting worse from there, wouldn't sleep unless in my bed, then God forbid Jason tried to sleep in a different room. Then the real kicker came when she wouldn't sleep unless _both_ of us were in the bed.” He shook his head slowly. “Babies man.”

 

Dick however seemed to have realisation dawn on his face, a grin forming slowly. “That was how you knew sunshine would do it for Bruce and Clark, wasn’t it?”

 

“I may have been betting from experience, yes.” He said tersely as he crossed his arms. “What of it?”

 

“Nothing, nothing.” Dick however couldn't stop grinning. “Just can’t get over this side of you.”

 

“Hey, this side of me if just as badass as the other side. If not more.”

  
“Just this side also knows how to make wicked good lemon bars. Seriously last bake sale all the moms wanted the recipe.” Roy added.

  
“Stop. Saying. _Shit_ .” Jason ground out. 

“Ah. Swear jar.” Roy hopped up from the couch. “You did promise Jay.”

  
“ _You_ -”

  
“Hey, be thankful i’m only fining you for this one. I could bankrupt you from this evening alone if I wanted to.” He walked through the archway leading into the kitchen, before turning back and poking his head in. “Did you guys eat before you came? We got some leftover pasta if you want any.”

 

Clark felt his belly grumble at the prospect. He’d barely eaten all day aside from breakfast and the idea of a hearty bowl of pasta seemed perfect. “I’d love some.”

 

Jason got up to. “Just be warned Roy. This one can eat enough to feed an army.” But as Jason looked to Clark there was nothing but warmth there. “You coming Dicky?”

 

Soon they were all in the kitchen, crowded around a table that was clearly not made for four grown men. Elbow to elbow they sat, Clark quietly inhaling the remaining food whilst the others sipped on coffee. “So what are your plans?” Dick asked as he stared into his mug. “You can’t keep this a secret much longer you know, especially now that Clark knows.”

 

  
“Hey.” Clark huffed around a bite of pasta. “I can keep secrets.”

 

The looks from around the table said otherwise.

  
  
Roy gave him a bump on the shoulder. “Sure you can Supes, but we still gotta tell Bruce.” Clark could at least appreciate the attempt to humour him. “I'm surprised he hasn’t caught on sooner to be honest.” He said as he sipped from his mug.

 

“He keeps out of our private lives for the most part.” Dick said easily as he reached for one of the cookies set down on the table. “I mean, where would he draw the line otherwise? When is too much too much?”

  
“Yeah.” Jason ran his hand through his hair. “Gotta admit i’ve been using that to our advantage for a while now.”

 

“Exactly.” Dick said with a nod. “Which means you have to come clean before you make it worse. Like telling him you’re getting arrested when you’re not ‘cause you know he won’t look into it.”

 

“You did what?” Roy asked, aghast.

 

Jason put his face in his hands and groaned. “Yeah, okay, not my best moment. But i’ve always been terrible at thinking on my feet.”

  
“Great. So Bruce still thinks you're getting into trouble. Thanks Jay. Really doing us a solid there.”

  
“Well not really. Dick kinda busted that illusion this morning. Now he thinks i'm a sex addict, so thanks for that Dicky. Appreciate it.”

 

Dick’s eyes took on a mischievous glint. “What are brothers for?”

 

“Just remember next time I catch you with Babs, Bruce is getting a run down or all the times you felt her up and thought no one saw you.”

  
“JAY!” Dick’s half eaten cookie collided with the others face, Jason smiled as he reached for it and ate it in one.

  
“Oh yeah Dicky. I know shit too.”

 

“Swear jar.”

  
  
“Worth it.” Jason said as he pulled a dollar from his wallet and went to place it in the steadily filling container.

 

  
“You know nothing, Jason Todd.” Dick said quietly.

  
  
“I know enough.”

 

“Right. So. Getting back on track.” Roy said as he clapped his hands together. “What's the plan?”

 

“Plan?” Dick said after a moment. “Oh right the plan!” He placed his hands on the table. “...anyone got anything?”

 

“What about a letter?” Jason supplied as he tented his hands together, looking pensive.

  
  
“I think we need a bit more than that.”

 

  
“An email; with a video attachment.”

 

“No.” Dick frowned. “I don't _quite_ think your getting the point of the plan, Jay.”

 

“How about.” Clark said loudly, drawing all eyes to him. “Dinner. All of us together, a nice meal, a quiet chat and hopefully no broken plates.”

  
Roy slowly lifted his hand until Clark nodded toward him. “Not that I don't like this plan, but i'd prefer not to be near Bruce if he has access to cutlery of any description.”

  
  
Jason blew a raspberry. “He's not going to kill you Roy.” 

  
  
“Still, I don't want to tempt fate.”

 

“Okay, how about we all tell Bruce we want a meal together, just me, Dick and Jason, and then before the meal we take him aside talk to him and then Roy can come in. Once all that's said and done and we can eat.” Seeing his apprehension, Clark went on. “You could bring Lian too, Bruce won’t get angry around a child. I can even bring Cyrus in as added insurance.”

 

“Oh God yeah, Bruce is a total sap around that baby, bring him in and we’re golden.” Jason said with a smirk. “And Lian as well? He won't stand a chance.”

 

“Well okay then, I think we have something here.” He received a few nods of assent from around the table, though Dick still looked troubled.

  
“I get what you’re saying Clark.” The quiet look of contemplation overtook his face as he seemed to be debating something. “Really. But I also think we can do something to help tip the odds in our favour further.”

 

“Nope.” Jason said blankly “I know what you're thinking. It is a stupid plan, and it always has been.”

 

“You’ve never even given it a shot Jay, how do you know?”

  
  
“Because it’s _your_ idea, and there is a reason you aren't known as the brains of this family.”

  
  
“What's the idea?” Roy asked leaning ever so slightly closer to Jason.

  
  
“You don't want to know Roy. I wish I didn’t know. But I do. And I regret the knowledge daily.”

 

“It can't be that bad.” But either it was the serious look from Jason or the resolute determination from Dick he faltered. “Or can it?”

 

Jason with a slight tilt of the head, and narrowing of the eyes, stared at Roy. “Dick seems to think that Bruce is more 'agreeable' if he's had sex recently.” Jason's voice was void of any emotion as he spoke, seemingly due to how much he had to repress the words from himself.

  
Clark however couldn't help the violent flush that came across his face. “What on earth do you mean by that?” He was staring at Dick, but the man's expression did not falter, remaining adamant.

  
  
“It’s true okay! Years I’ve lived with the man, you screw up enough times you notice a pattern, some days he’d barely react, maybe a sigh and a ‘i'm disappointed in you lecture’ and other days it was a full on yelling match for practically nothing.” He slammed his hand on the table. “Like this morning Jay! You _lied_ to Bruce and how did he respond?” Dick whirled on Clark, gripping his arm with a surprising amount of strength. “You had sex with him last night didn’t you?”

 

“I-” but Clark couldn't speak. His throat was imploding in on itself, and even the act of existing was too much for him at that moment. “I mean, you’re not-”

  
“They totally did.” Dick answered for him. “So Jay, all i'm saying is, we can still do this dinner plan, but if we want some added insurance, we gotta get blue to bone Bruce.”

  
Jason for the most part was still staring at the table, apparently attempting to block out anything and everything about this conversation. He did however offer Dick his attention after a moment as he reached into his wallet and pulled out a dollar. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

 

Dick frowned. “Jay-”

  
He looked into his wallet. “No. Dick. You’re an idiot.” He ran his fingers along the inside of it before closing it up and shoving it into his pocket. “I would have added emphasise but I have no more money.”

 

“Jay…” Dick tried again, a tad more sympathetically. “I know you doubt me, but you can’t say you haven’t noticed it too.”

 

“Okay, fine. I’ve noticed, but that still doesn't mean this idea isn’t fu-” he huffed. “Stupid. Like, you really think you’re going to get Clark to go along with this?”

 

“No, yeah, your right Jason. It’s gonna be _real_ hard to convince Clark to go have sex with Bruce. _That_ is truly the hard part about this whole operation. Point taken.” Dick said flatly.

  
Jason rolled his eyes, before turning his gaze to Clark. Soon they were all looking at him, and as he tried to speak he realised his throat was still in a state of implosion and he had to cough and sip at his coffee to regain what little composure he had. “I mean.” He started. “I could. You know… to help?” He finished lamely and Dick beamed brightly at him.

 

“Great! That means dinner tomorrow, I’ll call Bruce in the morning to arrange it all and then we can break the news.” He crossed his arms and seemed so proud of himself despite the looks of trepidation from everyone else.

“Fine. You win.” Jason heaved a sigh. “Well, I think we better call this a night. I'll walk you out.” He got up from his seat and made his way for the living room. Clark rose up too, though Dick stayed rooted to his spot.

  
“Uh uh. I'm not going anyway, I know you. You’ll run for it the minute i’m out of the door.”

 

“What about work?”

 

“My day off tomorrow.” He said easily.

  
“Dick please.” Jason crossed his arms. “I’m not gonna run. You said it yourself I need to tell Bruce about all this.”

  
“Still, i’m staying here. Clark can go initiate stage one and you can tell me more about your secret suburban existence.” He splayed himself across the table, with no apparently aim of getting up any time soon.

 

Roy didn't seem as annoyed with this revelation as Jason, and even smiled. “Sounds nice actually, be good to catch up with you Dicky.”

  
  
Dick grinned as he turned to Jason. “Guess i’m staying.”

  
Jason, apparently knowing he'd lost what ever battle was being fought simply sighed. “Fine. Let me just walk Clark out.”

 

He wanted to say it wasn’t necessary, but as Jason gripped his arm and firmly escorted him outside he didn’t have a chance to. The door opened and Jason brought him out onto the patio, eyeing him with suspicion. “Look. You don't have to go along with Dick’s plan okay? Like I said he isn’t the brightest and this plan is definitely not changing that any time soon.”

  
“What do you think I should do then?” He asked earnestly.

  
Jason actually seemed surprised at the question, giving a small cough as Clark stared at him. “I mean, I don't know… Just, maybe break the idea of it to him subtly?” He quickly shook his head. “No, don’t do that. You supers aren't known for subtly.” He eyed Clark. “Just have my back tomorrow. When shit is said and done I need to know you’ll be on my side.”

  
“Of course Jason.” He tried not to let his pride show but Jason still rolled his eyes.

  
  
“Yeah yeah. Just-” he crossed his arms. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

 

“Don't worry, I've got it under control.” He said with what he hoped sounded like confidence.

  
Jason didn't say anything else as he made his way back into the house, Clark waited a moment as he heard the quiet chatter inside resume. It seemed amicable enough, and for a moment he relished the their victory.

 

He just had to not dwell on the even larger battle ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lian is savage af... 
> 
> Also, in case anyone is like me and over thinks things to the nth degree. Jason didn't let his small child drive a car. He had them both parked in the driveway and they just roleplayed basically. Couldn't really figure out a way to put it in the chapter without it sounding really clunky so its added meta for y'all. 
> 
> This chapter is probably the most fun i've had writing a chapter. I have a really lame sense of humour and I laughed a lot writing it. Hopefully y'all will agree it's funny, otherwise, soz.
> 
> Till next time, and as always comment and kudos if you liked. 8)


	16. Chapter 16*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait again, truthfully I've been working on other projects and this kinda fell by the way side. Anyway if you're still here, hello, if your new, welcome and I'm sorry in advance for the hiatus hell I'll be putting you though.

It seemed easy enough.

 

_ ‘Sleep with Bruce Wayne.’  _

  
Hell, he would have done it regardless of being  _ asked _ to do it. If anything that was an added bonus.

 

Yes, it was weird that it was said man’s children requesting it, but he couldn’t fault their logic. If you were to break potentially earth shattering news to someone, it stands to reason that relaxing them beforehand lessens the fallout considerably. 

 

He found Bruce down in the cave when he got to the manor, Cyrus beside him as always, playing with his small turtle though it found its way onto the floor as Clark approached, his hands going instead to making grabby motions at him. Clark scooped him up easily, nuzzling his head. Bruce himself finished what he was typing and turned to them. “Welcome home.” 

 

Home. Yes. This was his home now he realised with a burst of warmth in his chest. Not the barely lived in apartment back in Metropolis. “How's everything been?”

 

Bruce gave a noncommittal shrug. “Relatively boring actually. Lex is either the dullest person in existence or he speaks in a code so complex that I have yet to work it out.”

 

“I mean. I wouldn't put it past him.” Clark offered as he reached down to pick up Cyrus’s discarded toy. “The man is a supposed genius after all. Must be used to keeping his plans on lock down.”

 

“True. We’ll just have to wait for him to slip up. Diana is covering his communications for the most part. She’ll let me know when she spots something.” He stretched his arms above his head. “I think it’s time to call it a night.”

 

Clark pressed his hand against his chest, his face in mock horror. “Bruce Wayne. Calling it a night.” He glances at his watch. “And it’s only 9:30.” 

 

Bruce rolled his eyes. “I’m still going out for patrol.” He got up from the chair and came to kiss Cyrus on his head, through said baby seemed to want more attention as he muttered ‘ba’ a few times, reaching for Bruce. The man obliged and gave another kiss, before looking to Clark and speaking softly. “Will you put him to bed? I’ll only be a few hours.”

 

Clark pressed his lips together. “I mean, do you have to? Can’t you-” 

 

Bruce’s stare went hard. “Clark i've been taking it easy these past few nights.” Perhaps sensing Clark’s dejected demeanor, he gave a small sigh. “I know you mean well, in fact Alfred was meaning to ask you for tips on how you managed to get me to have a somewhat regular sleep schedule, but I can’t abandon Gotham.” He leant forward, pressing his lips on Clark’s cheek. “I promise I won't be out long.” 

 

“Promise?”

  
“Promise.” Bruce smiled with a quick nod. “I better be off then, you two have fun.” 

 

Clark stood for a while staring at the spot Bruce once occupied. Shit. This really wasn't going to plan. He looked to Cyrus for silent support and was greeted with the sleepy eyes of a baby. “Bedtime sunshine?” Cyrus seemed to nod slowly, and Clark leant in close to his ear. “Or do you wanna go for a little fly?” From just that one word, Cyrus’s eyes widened as he slowly petted on Clarks shirt, mumbling dada’s as Clark nodded sagely. “Yeah, I thought that too…”

 

By the time Bruce was leaving Clark was making his way out of the manor as well onto its vast lawn, and no matter how many times he brought Cyrus outside it always seemed like the first. With his eyes trained upwards, in vast awe over what was above. Clark himself always felt drawn to the sky, something about the endless expanse of blue seemed to call to him. He lifted himself higher until they were above the treeline. Looking out over the land, where the distant skyline of Gotham lay.  

 

He let Cyrus bob in front of him a few times, his hands ready underneath him should he suddenly drop. Though even that was being extra cautious. Clark’s own reaction speed should hopefully be faster than that of a slowly descending baby. 

 

For the most part he let him move on his own, doing what Clark liked to call ‘air swimming’, using his little arms to propel himself forward in short jerky motions.

 

It was while he was watching Cyrus attempt a strange version of a doggy paddle that his phone chimed, he pulled it out and noticed one  message from Dick.

 

**‘Hey bb, how goes ze plan?? :) ;) :P’**

 

God, he wasn’t exactly expecting Dick to text with the same tact and grace as Bruce but this was something else. 

 

**‘Uh, not so good. He went out on patrol.’** He pressed send and immediately saw the ‘...’ as Dick began typing back. It took a moment to get a response.

 

**‘Nooo, why didnt you stop him?? :C’**

 

Clark rolled his eyes with a smile.  **‘You have met Bruce right? Not much can stop him from doing what he wants.’**

 

**‘...... tru.’** After a moment another message.  **‘Still jasons getting antsy.’** As if to illustrate his point, Clark received a message of Jason sitting on the couch with Roy, his face resolute and stern, unaware of Dick taking the picture. **‘See? Lookit that face.’**

 

Clark spent a while trying to think of a response when he noticed Dick typing again.  **‘Look, its not the end of the world, you still have when he gets home, just gotta get creative ya know ;) ;) ; ); 0 :P’**

 

Clark frowned down at his screen. Creative? What the hell was Dick implying. He didn't respond, putting his phone back in his pant pocket  and watching as Cyrus resumed his minstations across the sky. After a few minutes his movements died down as his eyes slowly closed. Clark watched as his son slowly began rising higher into the sky. He tried not to laugh as he brought him close to his chest. God forbid Cyrus ever fell asleep outside when Clark wasn’t there.

 

Back inside Clark quickly dropped Cyrus off in his room and made his way to Bruce's- No,  _ their  _ room- and opened the door, stepping inside.

 

Sure enough the sheets on the bed were changed, now white and crisp. Clark approached them and ran his hand across the fabric. Compared to the sheets in his apartment these felt like silk. 

 

He still had at least an hour before Bruce got back, so he striped down to his underwear, letting his clothing fall in a heap. He noticed that his superman suit was neatly folded on the bureaus. He really did need to get Alfred a nice gift at some point to say thanks. First he brings a baby into the house, then his natural talent for causing a mess. Man does not get paid enough to deal with that  _ plus _ Bruce. 

 

Despite his earlier posturing it didn’t take Clark long to get bored. Sometimes an hour could feel like a second to him, and other times it was like time had apparently stopped. He sat on the bed, got up from the bed, walked around the room and eventually found himself by the wall where all of Bruce’s photos were. Mostly they were of the boys, though there were some of Bruce when he was younger too, one where he was held by a woman Clark had to assume was his mother.

 

Clark focused on it for a moment and felt himself grin at Bruce’s expression, a practical mirror image of his now patented frown. The picture was made even more perfect by the addition of his outfit, as Martha Wayne apparently decided to dress Bruce as a sailor for the occasion.

 

He even had a little hat on.

 

Clark wondered how he’d be able to get a copy of it for himself when his eyes caught something in his peripheral. 

 

On closer inspection he found some small figurines hidden in one of the corners of the room. Clark realised with a start it was a small Batman and he tried not to laugh at the absurdity of it, and as he leant down to get a better look it he noticed the small Superman beside it and tried to keep his breathing even.

 

He picked it up. It seemed old, the plastic on it starting to bleach ever so slightly. He tried not to let himself get too bogged down with the emotion he was feeling.#

 

Because he was feeling something.   
  


He was pretty sure it was love.

 

If love is wanting to grow old with someone collecting figurines of each other and displaying them in your room. Then yes. It was love.

 

He sat down on the side of the bed with both of them in his hand. Letting the image of it settle in his mind. He wondered how long Bruce had had these. 

 

He didn’t know how much time had passed with him sitting there, but as he heard the door open and Bruce stepped inside, he didn't move. Didn’t attempt to put down the small figures and act as if nothing had happened. “Clark? Why are you sitting in the dark?” Bruce walked up beside him and Clark didn’t miss how his heart raced as he saw what Clark was holding. “You found them.” His voice was even as he spoke, though he swallowed after the words.    
  


Clark's face was remarkably passive as he looked up to Bruce. “How long have you had them?”

  
Bruce’s face twisted and Clark could practically see the lie as it was made. “Not that long.”   
  


“They’re sun bleached.” But there was no accusation in his tone.

  
This seemed to crack him as he let out an exasperated sigh, his arms crossing against his chest. “Okay, fine. I’ve had them a while.”

  
“Why?” 

 

But Bruce’s face remained impassive. “Just put them back. It doesn’t matter.”

  
“But  _ why _ Bruce?” 

 

He didn’t speak. Clark however couldn’t let it go. Didn’t  _ want  _ to let it go. “ _ Bruce _ .”   
  
The other paused, his hand stilling over the dresser. “You’re not going to drop it, are you?” He asked quietly, as though to himself.

  
Clark's expression answered that question, and Bruce sighed.    
  
“I just…” Even from where he sat, he could see how Bruce looked in that moment. Curled in on himself, arms covering his chest as his face was turned down. Not once in all the years he’d know Bruce had he ever seen him look so...  _ lonely _ . “I saw the Batman one a few years after I started work. It was a snap purchase, I had intended to give it to Dick, but when I got it home, I just didn’t. I kept it in my room, and after a while…” he trailed off, his arms going tighter around himself. “I hated looking at it. By itself. In a dark corner. Just like-” 

 

Clark's throat constricted as Bruce’s eyes watered. “Me.” He finished with a sharp breath. “Even with the boys and Alfred in my life, I never got rid of this feeling inside me, like I was alone. Then I found you and-” his eyes flicked up and Clark's breath caught. “You pushed me. You wormed your way into my life despite how much I fought against it and became someone I could trust, someone I could depend on.” He unwound his arms and came forward, picking up the Superman from Clark’s lax grip. “I saw him in a thrift store, right in the front of the window. He’s early addition apparently. Same series as mine.” He ran his finger fondly over the fading symbol on its front. “You made me realise I wasn’t alone in the world, that I had people I could depend on, but most importantly you gave me  _ you _ .” 

 

Clark couldn’t speak. Allowing Bruce to pick up the Batman one from his hand and place them back in their spot in the corner. “So there. If you didn’t think I was a mess before, there you go.” He huffed as he made to move past Clark, but he never got that far as Clark pressed himself close against him, his hands on either side of his face, not letting him look away.

  
  
“I have never loved you more than I do right in this moment.”

  
“Clark, you-”   
  
“Yes Bruce I know. I love you. I love you so much that I want to buy every Batman and Superman between here and Metropolis and set them on that dresser so you don’t ever feel alone again.”

  
Bruce smiled at that. “I don’t need the figurines now I have the real thing.” He leant forward and pressed his lips against Clark’s. “In case it wasn't already obvious, I love you too.”   


  
Clark gave a soft exhale. “I mean, I kinda guessed... but hearing it, makes me realise how much I like hearing you say it.”   


  
Bruce kissed him again. “I love you Clark.”

  
“Seriously Bruce stop, my heart can’t take it.”

 

He grinned. “I.” A kiss on his temple. “Love.” A kiss on his check. “You.” And finally his lips.

 

“My heart.” Clark reached for his chest, gripping his shirt and falling onto the bed behind him. “I’m dying.” He used his other arm to lay across his face, hoping to obscure just how red it was from Bruce.

 

He wasn’t having any of that though, crawling on top of Clark and moving his arm and smiling down at him. “I don’t know. You seem fine to me.”   
  
Clark gave a roll of the eyes. “Well sure I  _ look _ fine, but seriously my heart just burst. You’re lucky i’m even capable of speech right now.”   
  
“I wonder what would happen if I told you I loved you in Kryptonese…” Bruce’s voice tapered of as his stare grew thoughtful, but Clark just reached forward, laying a finger across his face, eyes wide.    
  
“Don't do that. I don't actually want to die.”

  
Bruce smirked, mumbling past Clark’s finger. “And you think that would do it?”

  
  
“I know it would.” He sat up, somewhat impeded by Bruce on his lap. “Don’t, seriously, I can't be held accountable if you-”   
  


“ _ I love you, Kal El _ .”

 

All at once all the synapses in Clarks brain fired off and somehow he and Bruce were on the bed. Clark was even impressed with his own actions, Bruce hadn’t a single shred of clothing on him and when he looked to the edge of the bed, there it was in a bundle on the floor. Bruce laid beneath him, gazing up with wide eyes. It must have been an odd sensation. To blink and suddenly be naked. “Clark-”   
  
“I told you I can't be held accountable.” He pulled off his shirt and eyed Bruce’s body up and down. “I mean, I did warn you...”   
  
And all at once, that wide eyed wonder was gone, replaced with a look of quiet hunger. Bruce regarded him, his lips forming the barest of smirks. “Oh?”   
  
Clark gulped at the expression, trying his best to maintain his air of confidence.“Yup.” He said loudly, letting his hands trail on Bruce, gripping his hips firmly. “I don't think you realise what you got yourself into.”

 

A steely edge entered his expression, a rise to the challenge. “I think I can handle it.” Bruce said as he slowly lifted himself from the bed, resting his hand on Clark’s collar bone, licking his lips before pressing them on Clark’s. “Question is… can you?”    
  
“Uh.” Clark let out and as if failing a test Bruce's eyes narrowed, and before he knew it Clark was the one laying on the bed looking up at Bruce. “Uh, you-”   
  
“You are not good at this.” Bruce chided, his smirk still firmly in place.

 

“Hey now.” Clark raised his hand in protest. “You just caught me unaware is all. I was not expecting you to be so into that.”

 

“Really?” Bruce regarded him. “Why?”

  
  
“Well I thought you'd like being the one in charge not-” but Bruce's unfaltering stare and his own embarrassment made him stop.

 

“Not?” he prompted.

 

“Well I don’t know, you seem so-” he huffed up at Bruce, cheeks aflame. “I mean after last time… I just thought…”

 

“I enjoy both.” He pressed his hands on Clark’s chest, leaning down to his face. “Especially with you.”

 

“Oh.” Clark said after a moment. “So I could-”

  
  
“Yes.”

  
  
“Or you could…?”

 

A smile. “Yes.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Clark?”

  
  
“Yeah?”

  
  
“Can you please just kiss me already?” 

  
Clark gave a sharp nod, pressing up and into Bruce’s waiting mouth. Bruce’s hands went from resting to wrapping around him. He hummed into his mouth wanting more contact, more kisses, but most importantly more Bruce.

  
He flipped him back over and brought his hands to Bruce’s hips, to the jutting bone there and tracing his fingers along the skin. Bruce broke the kiss gasping sharply and thrusting up to Clark, his voice needy. “Clark, please-” but the rest of the sentence never came, replaced with a moan as Clark brought his hands lower, running them along his inner thigh.  

 

It wasn’t elegant. Clark really thought he’d be able to last more than a couple of minutes and yet here he was, hard and mostly likely a few casual strokes away from embarrassment. He grit his teeth and looked at Bruce, who's dilated eyes watched him reverently and Clark was sure of only one thing in that moment.    
  
He was  _ not  _ cumming first this time.

 

With that thought in mind he steeled himself, moving lower and lower, kissing along Bruce's stomach towards his own erection. He knew he lacked Bruce's tact when it came to this sort of things, but as he pulled Bruce's thigh up and placed a gentle kiss on the inside of it, the sharp intake of breath was all he needed to know he wasn't doing too bad. He smiled against the flesh and lowered himself, his lips taking Bruce in his mouth. 

 

He looked up at Bruce as he moved up and down, attempting what he hoped was a come hither stare to rival Bruce's own. He heard Bruce laugh, but it was tight in sound, as if afraid that being too loud would break whatever aura was surrounding them. Because all Clark knew was what he was feeling right now was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

 

He could hear Bruce quietly mumbling to himself, until Clark's errant hands trailed along his ass, reaching his hole and pressing his finger ever so gently against it. “Fuck...” and it that wasn’t the sexiest thing Clark had ever heard. The fact that he had been the one to cause this, to make Bruce moan put more pressure on his own cock. He brought his hand down on himself, wrapping his fingers around the base and tightening. He was not-

 

But that thought ended as he felt something slick coat his mouth. So lost in his own thoughts hed barely felt Bruce’s hands on his hair, nor the frankly unrepeatable list of swears coming from his mouth. Instead he pulled back, a small dribble of cum leaking down his face and grinned. “Looks like a win this round.” He said slyly watching Bruce try and catch his breath.

 

It took a moment for Bruce to regain his composure, but when he did it was calm and calculating. He lent up on his arms and staring down at Clark. “Oh, I see how it is…” He smirk. Don’t cum first and suddenly you're Mr. Confident?”

  
“Well I wouldn't go that far…” He trailed off, before grinning up at Bruce. “But yeah.”   


 

“And the fact that you're still hard and expect me to return the favor is lost on you as well isn't it?”

 

  
Clark thought for a moment. “That's not what- You're gonna pretend to be asleep again aren't you?”

 

Bruce didn't respond with words, instead opting to fall back into bed with a slump. “God dammit it.” Clark muttered as he crawled back up along his body. “ Bruce…” his lips were on his ear. “Bruce.” He repeated.

  
“You’d think you’d have learnt by now...” he said quietly, keeping his lips from moving too much.

  
“Hey. Ma said there is nothing wrong with being a slow learner.” He looked as Bruce’s eyes fluttered open. “And I can’t help it… you’re fun to tease.” 

 

He smirked at Clark. “So are you.”

  
  
“Well good.” Clark grinned. “Least were both on the same page on that front.”

 

“Hum…” Bruce smiled. “But the fact still remains-” He reached for Clark and grabbed him easily, huffing a laugh as Clark winced. “What do we do with this?”

 

And whether it was the aura that was still enveloping them, or the fact that feeling Bruce's warm hand on him was too much, Clark let out a guttural breath. “I want to fuck you with it.”

 

He felt Bruce still beneath him, his hand going slack and Clark felt his mind returning to him, his eyes wide. “Oh god Bruce I didn't-” but Bruce was already up from the bed and to Clark’s horror leaving the room. “Bruce!”

 

When he was alone Clark simply sat staring at the door to the bathroom, his erection wilting as his mind raced. He was knew this was moving too fast, and Bruce was now-

 

But Bruce was back. In actuality he’d been gone less than five seconds though to Clark it seemed to span for eons. His expression bore that confusion, frowning in concern at Bruce. 

 

Bruce however didn’t seem phased, tossing something on the bed and laying back down, his belly pressed into the covers. “You said you wanted to fuck me boy scout.” He lifted his hips up slightly. “So are you or are you going to back out?” His smile was mischievous and Clark felt his heart hammering as relief swelled inside him though he couldn’t help the slight scowl on his face.

  
  
“You know you gave me a heart attack just now.” He sat up and picked up the bottle of lube. “You could have said something you now, like, oh Clark just grabbing the lube and am totally not leaving you forever.” He said the last part quietly, opening the bottle and giving it a cautious sniff. Banana? He shrugs as he coats his fingers. 

  
  
“Sorry.” He said somewhat genuinely, though it was quickly followed up by a shrug. “I was too busy imagining you're cock in me to speak.” He stilled as Clark’s fingers found his hole again, this time pressing fully in. 

  
  
“Well I mean when you put it like that.” He really thought he’d fucked up royally and the burn of it still lingered though he felt it dissipate as he saw Bruce underneath him, wiggling as his finger pressed in deeper. “God Bruce you look so good.” 

 

He kept his touches light, perhaps out of concern, but more Clark realised for the way it made Bruce arch into him, and make more of those noises that just went straight to Clark’s own cock. He kept his other hand running along Bruce’s thighs, teasing the flesh there and relishing how the muscles quivered at the contact. 

 

It was Bruce who caused the speed up, jutting himself up suddenly and turning his head, giving Clark a good view of the flush creeping along his face. “Clark.” He said. No wanton passion in his tone, no breathless desire, only his name, crisp and clean. Yet that was all that was needed, in that one word Clark understood.

 

He lifted Bruce up easily, propping him on his knees and bringing himself up to match. There were no more words, they weren't needed. Only the mindless joining of bodies that he used to dream about and could scarcely believe was happening. He pressed himself in, feeling Bruce's warmth encompass his senses. He knew he wasn't breathing, his mind too focused on the sensation. This was unlike anything Clark had ever imagined, and the fact it was Bruce he was with had everything to do with that. 

 

So lost in the moment, he barely registered Bruce slowly beginning to move. It was little thrusts as he rocked back on his knees, attempting to urge Clark to do something other than kneel there, dumbfounded. Eventually his brain seemed to get with the program, as he slowly brought his hips back only to push them firmly back up into Bruce, pressing himself tight against his ass. 

 

God he was close. So close he could see the edge, peering over it and wondering how he'd fall. Would it be graceful and with class or would be tumble and break his head repeatedly against the rocks jutting from the side?

 

It was then that Bruce arched himself, the muscles of his back rippling, and letting out a breath that almost sounded like a prayer.  _ “Clark. _ ” 

 

He thrust again, his muscles tensing and as his body was preparing to fling itself over the edge he contemplated holding back but he knew that wasn’t an option.  _ Well, _ he thought,  _ rocks it is. _

 

He came into Bruce, riding out his orgasm with a string of unintelligible moans that seemed to dissolve into a strange mix of repeating Bruce's name and half formed sentences. He slumped forward and with the part of his brain not currently blinded with orgasm managed to find Bruce's cock underneath them, and firmly gripped it, pumping it with his hand as he kissed the man's back, darting his tongue out to trail along his spine. 

 

It took a moment, longer than Clark by far, but considering Bruce had an advantage over him for having already orgasmed, Clark didn’t mind. Smiling against his skin as he felt Bruce tense around him, his whole body rigid as the sheets once again got some very questionable stains imprinted upon them. Clark pulled out, and in doing so snapped the strings apparently holding Bruce in place as he fell into a lump on the bed beside him, his body flushed. Clark stayed where he was, a smile rooted on his face, unlikely to be removed anytime soon. “So? How was I?” He gave a grin.

 

Bruce pondered for a moment, his stare going pensive. “It's hard to say. It was all over so fast.” He said before the look on Clark’s face caused him to laugh. “Clark, i’m kidding.”

 

“Haha. Very funny.”

 

“I’m only teasing.” Bruce brought his hand up to graze it along Clark’s lips, as though trying to form them into a smile. “You can do it too, tease me back.”

  
  
“You, uh…” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I got nothing.”

 

“Maybe next time.” He sat up, moving closer to Clark, his head resting on his chest. “Because there will definitely be a next time.”

  
  
“Definitely.” Clark repeated sagely, stroking Bruce's hair as he did. When the man yawned he too closed his eyes, relishing this feeling. “Though this part is probably my favourite.”

  
“Oh?” Bruce said sleepily, his hands resting on Clark as he wiggled to get more comfortable.”

  
  
“Yeah…” he said quietly, keeping his voice even as he listened to Bruce's breathing even out. “I just like being with you.” 

 

He didn't expect Bruce to tense the way he did, lifting himself up and catching Clark's eyes with his own. Clark tried to read the expression there but it was clouded. “How did I get you?” A smile slowly started to creep on his face, and Clark couldn't help but return it.

  
“Bruce you always had me, it just took a baby to make it official.” Mentioning him caused Bruce's smile to grow as he returned to the crock of Clark's neck.

 

“How is he by the way?” 

 

Clark focused his stare through the wall, to the image of Cyrus calmly sleeping on the ceiling. “He’s fine.” 

 

“Good.” Bruce closed his eyes. “Good…” 

 

He doesn't know when Bruce fell asleep but right as he did, Clark slipped out from under him and walked over to where the miniature versions of them stood. Quietly, without a word, he reached and plucked the Superman and sat it down as close to the Batman as it would go, side by side. Satisfied, he gave a short nod and crawled back into bed, hugging Bruce tight against him.    


  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does the sex at least make up for the wait? What about the diabetes inducing sweetness? Next chapter will be who knows when, but thanks for reading, and know even if it seems I've abandoned this fic, I haven't. Its my longer piece of work ever and I want to see it finished. It's just gonna take a while. Who knows, maybe 2018 will be my year? Anyway, thanks my peeps, till next time. x


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the update train! Choo choo! Trying to keep a more regular schedule this year my dudes, so here's hoping!

Clark awoke to a softness against his face. He pressed into it, breathed in the scent that was undeniably Bruce.

 

Only to realise when he cracked his lids open that he was not cuddling Bruce and did in fact have his face crammed against his pillow, a puddle of drool collecting on his surface.

  
He slowly rose from the mattress, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. A quick scan of the manor let him know just where Bruce had snuck off to. He got dressed quickly and made his way downstairs. When he walked into the kitchen he was greeted by the sight of Bruce quietly humming to himself. It was gentle, absent minded almost, as he stood by the oven stirring a pot. 

 

Cyrus was up too, watching Bruce with rapt attention, hid head bobbing along as Bruce hummed.

 

Clark himself smiled at the picture and let out a single cough, relishing how Bruce jolted at the sound, covering his heart in his hand. “Jesus Clark.” He let out a breath, turning to him with crossed arms. “How long have you been standing there?” 

 

“Long enough.” He grinned. Cyrus now free from any other distraction, reached for him and Clark quickly walked over, tousling his hair as he sat down alongside him. “Why didn’t you wake me?” Thankfully he still had time before work, but he still missed waking up next to Bruce. It was slowly becoming the favourite part of his day.

  
“You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to.” He said easily, smiling when he saw Clark’s pout. “I’ve already been up for a couple hours, thought you’d appreciate the extra sleep instead of sitting down here with me.”   
  
Clark however didn’t laugh, his pout dissolving into a frown. “Wait, a couple hours? Did you have a nightmare, Bruce you should have-”   
  
“Clark.” Bruce was fighting an even bigger smile now. “I woke up to use the bathroom, and when I came back you’d already moved onto the pillow, taking up most of the bed when you did, by the way.”

  
“I-” Clark’s face grew hot. “Oh.”

  
“It’s fine.” He laughed softly, coming forward and trying to kiss the grimace off Clark’s face. “I thought it was cute, you kept mumbling my name into the pillow.”   
  
“Oh God.” Clark tried to cover his face but Bruce was on him again, keeping his hands down and leaving his beetroot red face exposed to the world.  

  
“It’s fine Clark. It was a good chance to get a jump start on breakfast anyway.” He gestured his head to the oven. “We’re having cheese souffles as well as individual corn and pepper frittatas.” He frowned at the oven. “At least I think we are, I sort of went a bit overboard this morning.”

  
“You think? Overboard? Bruce how do you-”

  
“Just don't open the fridge.” Bruce said quickly. He brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Near the end I started piling things on top of each other in there. I heard a shelf give after I closed the door and now I don’t want to open it. You shouldn’t either unless you want to eat strawberry tarts off the floor. Breakfast is whatever I can still access.” 

 

Clark didn’t know what to say, eyeing the fridge like it was a ticking time bomb. He flinched when he heard a ringing, thinking he was going to get coated in custard and what ever else it had to offer but no, it was just the oven and Bruce slipped from him to pull out all the food. 

 

The smell of melted cheese and potato was one Clark would never tire of. He closed his eyes and savoured it, knowing that Cyrus was doing just the same. “Not that i’m unappreciative.” He said slowly. “But what gives with all the food?” Unlike yesterday it was only themselves to eat it all. Not that that was an issue.  
  
“Well, it’s just-” he set the tray down and crossed his arms. “I got a weird call from Dick.”  
  
Clark stilled, his hand hovering over the frittata. “Oh?” He tried to say evenly.

 

“Yes.” Bruce went about piling his plate for him, either missing or ignoring the terrible poker face he currently wore. “About an hour ago he called me, something about a ‘family meal’ tonight. He kept asking if you’ll be there and if Jason could come and I said I didn’t see why not, then he asked how I was feeling and I said fine.” Bruce shrugged, setting down Clark’s plate before moving on. He began cutting up one of the frittatas into tiny pieces before bringing a spoonful to Cyrus. “It was just odd, even for Dick.” He sighed. “It’s just gotten me worrying they’ve done something and when I worry I-” he looked to the fridge and pressed his lips. “I break kitchenware apparently.”   
  
“Oh, Bruce i’m sure it’s nothing that serious.” Clark said, attempting to hide his face by looking down at his plate as he spoke. “I bet they just want to see you.”   
  
“They saw me yesterday Clark.” Bruce said airily, as though not fully there whilst he spoke. “We’re not a family that has dinner together every other night. It’s usually like pulling teeth to get us all together.” Bruce then shook his head slowly. “And the weirdest part, for all his mentions of  _ family _ , he didn’t say anything about-” Bruce cut himself off with a sharp breath. “Never mind, i’m over thinking things again.” 

 

Clark paused his eating, holding his fork in mid air before slowly lowering to his plate. “Hey, this is all gonna go great, don’t you worry.”    
  
“I know.” Bruce said quickly, as though he was agreeing more out of rote than from actual agreement. “Anyway you better head off to work, as should I.” He rose from the chair, taking of his apron and Clark’s confused stare followed after him.   
  
“You mean?” He looked at Cyrus before turning back to Bruce. “You're going to work too? What about-” he gulped at the image. Alfred trying to tame a crying Cyrus as the two of them tried to go about their days.   
  
“It’s only a meeting, an hour max.” Bruce went to the mirror and readjusted his tie. “And I know now’s not the best time to discuss it but we do need to figure out what we're going to do with Cyrus.”   
  
Clark felt the hairs on the back of his head raise at the implication. He tried to keep his voice steady. “What do you mean?”   
  
Bruce gave a sigh. “I mean Clark, are we going to say I adopted him, are we going to say he’s your son? The fact is I cant keep making excuses for why i’m not coming to work, and neither can you.” He turned around and lent against the mirror. “So we need a plan, what are we going to tell people?”   
  


Clark drew a blank at the question. Honestly it was one he knew would come up eventually but still it blindsided him. What  _ was _ he going to tell people? That he had an illegitimate child with a random woman? That Cyrus was his nephew? 

 

He knew what he wanted to do, but somehow he felt waking up to newspapers sporting the phrase ‘Billionaire Brucie adopts baby with random reporter’ would be a bad thing. “I don’t know Bruce.” He said honestly, rubbing his face. “It’s a lot to consider.”

  
  
“I know.” Bruce conceited. “But we need to think about it, you more so as I already know my answer.”   
  
“You do?” Why did he sound so surprised. Of course Bruce already knew.

  
“Yes.” Bruce said. “And no i'm not going to tell you.” He crossed his arms and gave a playful smile. 

 

“Alright. Be like that.” He got up from the table too, making his way over to Bruce and bringing his hands up to his hips. “I have other ways of getting an answer out of you.” He said with a slight smirk. 

 

Bruce looked up at him as he pulled away, his mouth slightly open. “How much time do you have?” He whispered.   
  
Clark’s confidence was gone as quickly as it came as looked at his watch and winced. “None.”

 

“Damn.” Bruce said quietly. “You’ll just have to bend me over the counter another time.” 

  
“I’ll just pretend for mine sake as well as the young masters that I didn’t hear that.” Alfred said with a roll of the eyes as he walked in, without another word he went up to Cyrus and plucked him from his seat.

  
  
“Alfred!” Clark yelped. “We weren’t, we were just-” but his brain was fried and looking at Bruce's smug grin from his discomfort was not helping matters.

  
  
“You better head off to work Clark, i'll be leave-” but the sound of crashing stopped Bruce and it was his turn to look embarrassed. “Leave. Now. Quickly, before he-”

  
  
“Master Bruce….” Came Alfred’s voice, slow and even.

  
“ _Go._ ” He practically yelled.

 

And he was gone. Landing in Metropolis and running into the Daily Planet. He tried to block out Bruce and succeeded for the most part. Lois's voice in his ear as soon as he walked in helped matters. “Smallville.” She said as she stood in front of him, arms crossed and face drawn. “What's the excuse this time.” 

 

“Uh.” Clark blanked, his mind unable to come up with anything but the truth which he knew would sound like a complete lie if said aloud. “Lois, I know it looks back, but seriously traffic-”

  
  
“You walk Kent.” She said easily.

  
  
“Right-” He gulped. “ _ Pedestrian _ traffic was bad. That's what I meant.” He mentally slapped himself. 

  
  
Lois’s eyes narrowed, giving him that same stare she gave people in interviews. The kind that could go either way. Was she going to push and worm every last piece of information from him, or was she going to back off and allow Clark to slink wordlessly to his desk and pretend that he was working. “Clark.” She said finally, but there was no fire in her voice, just the wordless request for answers and Clark wondered if it was for her sake or his that she was asking.

 

“I-” and it hit him. It had hit him for a while and he just hadn’t noticed with everything else he had to worry about.

 

He trusted Lois. 

 

Bruce may have his reservations, but he knew in his gut that what he was about to do wasn't stupid, in fact, it was a long time coming. “Come with me to the roof.” He said, turning on his heel. When Lois didn’t follow he turned back. “Lois?”   
  
She rolled her eyes. “Stay there Smallville, one of us has to tell Perry where we’re going.” She slipped past him into the awaiting office. After some words, most of them loud enough to be heard without super hearing she came out. Her face bright. “Perfect. Let’s go.”   
  
“Perry didn’t sound happy.” He said as they walked slowly up the stairs. 

 

“Perry’s rarely happy, and I said getting to grips with why you’ve been off recently was more important that the paper, and he agreed.”   
  
“He did?” Clark was actually surprised by that. Perry didn't come across as the caring type.   
  
“Well duh Kent, you're his best reporter, if you're off the papers are off.”   
  
“Oh.” He said. Of course. He rolled his eyes. Why had he expected otherwise? “And why do you care so much?”   
  
Lois stopped suddenly. When Clark turned to her, she eyed him warily, as though she didn’t recognize the man in front of her. “Because I worry about you Clark, what you think I only see you as a coworker, you think I don’t see you as my friend? You think I can’t worry about you when I can see something is wrong? Is that it Clark?”    
  
“God no Lois. I didn’t mean it like that.” He said, the regret apparent in every word.    
  
“Well, how did you mean it?” She crossed her arms, jutting her chin at him. A challenge.   
  
“I guess.” He started sofly. “I guess I was just wondering what I did to deserve a friend like you.” He couldn't help but smile, and didn’t miss how the corner of Lois’s moved twitched as he spoke. “You're always looking out for me and I guess I always wondered why. Why if not for the obvious?” 

 

Lois kept her gaze averted, though it seemed to be more from how her eyes watered than from anything malicious. “Yeah I wonder why too. You're a constant burden, you’re never on time and you always say the wrong things.” She’s smiling though, looking at him again with a gentless Clark didnt expect from her. “But you're like my little brother Clark, gotta look out for you even if it makes me want to bang my head against a wall half the time.” 

 

“Thanks Lois.” He grinned back at her. “I mean it.”   
  
“Yeah yeah.” She waved her hand. “Now enough of all the heart to hearts, I wanna know what’s been going on. No bullshit.”   
  


“Right.” Clark nodded his head. “To the roof.” 

  
“To the roof.” Lois said as she continued her way up. “Making me walk up all these stairs in heels… The things I do for you Kent.”

 

Clark was still grinning by the time he flung open the door to the roof. His smile however faltered slightly when he remembered just what he was about to do.

 

“Alright Smallville. Here we are.” She spread her arms as she walked, as though presenting the splendor that is the Daily Planets roof to him. “Now, tell me, why are we freezing our asses off up here?” She turned to him then, her arms wrapping around herself as she attempted in vain to ward off the cold.

 

“I wanted to tell you something, but I needed somewhere private to do it.” 

  
“Okay, yeah, I got that.” She said with a quick nod. “Didn't think you brought me up here for the view.” 

  
“Right.” Clark said, pressing his lips together as he thought of just how he could say this without sounding crazy. “It's just, well, Lois, I don’t quite know how to say this, so I’m just going to come out and say it. You know, it's been a long time coming, I actually was thinking that just a few minutes ago and well, you see life has a habit of-”   
  
“ _God_ Clark, how are you a wordsmith on paper yet talking to you is like talking to a 5th grader trying to meet the minimum word requirement in an essay?” She said with a huff of a laugh. “Just tell me already. No fluff.”   
  
“Okay.” Clark cleared his throat. “I’m Superman.” 

 

Lois’s face was not one he could adequately describe even if given ample time to do so. Her eyes blew wide as her mouth began to slowly droop as though all mental capacity was going to breaking down those words rather than keeping her face together. She slowly came back to herself, her shock dissipating into a rueful smile. “Yeah, okay Clark.”   
  
“I mean it.”   
  
“Yeah, _sure_.” But her voice was tight as though she believed what she heard and yet didn't want to believe  _ she heard _ what she heard. 

  
“Lois.” He flew to her, in the blink of an eye there he was and Lois staggered back. The shock back though less muted.   
  
“Jesus!” She nearly fell, but thankfully Clark was there to keep her upright. Her face didn't change as she spoke. “You really are him...” She reached for his face, slowly bringing the glasses away from his eyes. She started to laugh. “Oh God, how did not I see it sooner? You're identical!” 

 

“Funny that.” He smirked.

 

“So you’re really…” but she still couldn’t believe it. Despite it being right in front of her. She handed the glasses back and Clark slipped them on. “Well that definitely explains the lateness. Having a part time job as a superhero can be quiet time consuming I imagine.”

 

“Not as much as you’d imagine...” And the way Clark trailed off caused Lois to grimace.   
  
“Please don't tell me there's more.” Lois groaned. “I can only take so much news like this.” 

  
“I'm afraid there is.” He ignored Lois’s grumbling as he continued. “I’m with someone.”   
  
That caused the appropriate reaction and Lois jolted, her expression immediately curious. “Who?” She batted Clark on the chest. “Are they a Superhero too? Are they cute? Do they know you're Superman? Who is it Kent!?” She swatted him again and laughed.

  
“Okay, but you’re not going to believe me.” He thought for a moment before he said the name, he tried to think if this was right. But no clear cut answer to that came, he only knew it  _ felt  _ right. “It’s Bruce Wayne.”   
  
Lois parsed the name, her lips pressing into a thin line. “What.” =

 

“I know it sounds-”

  
  
“ _ Bruce Wayne _ !” She screamed at him, flinging her arms up. “ _ You’re in a relationship with Bruce fucking Wayne _ !” 

 

“Yup.” He said perhaps a tad too blase. He should probably be more concerned about Lois’s apparent anger but they were alone up here and she could yell to her heart's content for all Clark cared. 

  
“How can you be with someone so egotistical, so brain dead, so incompetent?” She was still fuming, pacing back and forth quick enough that Clark worried there would be burn marks from the friction of her shoes. “Do you not read our own paper? Do you not watch the news? That man can barely take care of a goldfish let alone handle an adult relationship.” 

  
“There's more to him than meets the eye Lois.” He said briskly, crossing his arms.

  
“Oh is there?" She said with a roll of her eyes. "There’s more to him than just getting drunk and winding up in fountains with supermodels? Or having his butler do everything for him like a child who never grew up?”   
  
“God Lois! It's an act! How can you not see that!” He shouted.

 

Lois wilted from him, flinching at the words like she’d been struck. Clark too backed away. He never got like that, and regretted it almost immediately. “Lois, i’m-”   
  
“Don't tell me you’re sorry.” She didn’t look at him, her eyes out over the rooftops. “I’m the one who's sorry.” She sighed. “You're right Clark, I should know you wouldn't be with someone like that unless it was all fake.”   
  
“That’s ‘because it _ is _ .” He said. “He does it all for show. If you saw him behind closed doors Lois, you’d think he was a different person.” He could feel his cheeks burning. “He made me frittatas for breakfast this morning.”   
  
“No way.” She grinned. “And here I thought his butler did all that for him.”

  
“Yeah, he lets everyone think that's the case but it’s not.” He muttered, his face still tinged with pink. “I mean Alfred does help out but-”   
  
“Well I hope he would with his kids and everything. It's part of why the media didn’t crucify him when he went on his adoption kick.”   
  
Clark faltered. “What do you mean by that?”   
  
She gave a shrug. “Nothing bad. It's just, well, i'm just speaking for myself but when I found out a guy like Bruce was going to adopt a kid I was horrified. He's so inept-” she rolled her eyes. “I  _ thought _ he was so inept that the idea of him looking after another life was just-” she shivered. “That combined with it being a grieving orphan boy, alone in a big house with a known playboy. What kind of life would he have?” She kicked at some of the dirt by her feet. “With a butler it just seemed like he’d be taken care of properly and not… You know .” Though she didn’t say it the implication was there. What Bruce could have done to Dick if he had wanted. What people _ thought _ he would do. 

  
Clark tried not to let the words affect him, keeping his face an inexpressive mask. The words however had more than just their intended effect. He was pulled back to yesterday.

 

_ ‘Tell me, why do ‘you’ think I do it?’ _

 

He had his answer, he supposed he should be happy, but he wasn’t. He tried to speak but could only get out one word. “Right.”

 

“Clark.” Lois said with a sigh. “I'm sorry okay, but Bruce really did himself no favours with how he acts. People assumed the worst, and well, lets just say we all thought his kids only turned out halfway decent because of this ‘Alfred’.” She reached for Clark, setting an hand on his shoulder. “Now  _ I _ know that's not the case, but people out there still do. If you tell them anyone this you’re gonna get them asking how you can stand to be with that idiot. You know, alongside the press begging you for every last detail about your relationship.”

  
“That I think I could handle Lois, it’s just-” he paused, taking another breath. “There’s another reason we can’t really come out right now.”   
  
Her face falls. “There’s more.” She shook her head. “Of course there is, tell me, what buying a house together? Having a baby? What is is?”   
  
“Second one.” Clark said and Lois sputtered.   
  
“What!? I was kidding, you're not-”   
  
“Well, we’re not  _ having _ a baby.” Clark began. Lois heaved a sigh. “We already have one.” 

 

“I-” but Lois doesn't continue, pressing her hands against her eyes and letting out a loud groan. “My brain, it can’t handle anymore. Please tell me that’s all.”   
  
“That’s all.”   
  
“Okay, good.” She flung her arms down. “A baby Clark! A freaking baby!” She whirled on him. “What the hell? How long have you even been with him? How did you even get a baby? What were you thinking?”

  
“Lois, I get that you're worried, you have every right to be.” He brought his hands up, trying in vain to keep her calm. “But just trust me when I say I’ve known Bruce a long time.” Her mouth opened to question but he shook his head. “I can't tell you how, just know that i’m telling the truth and we didn’t go out looking for a baby. It sort of just happened.”   
  
She frowned. “Babies don't just happen Clark. Especially with two men.”

 

“It did for us okay? I can’t tell you all the hows and whys but, we found him and are now raising him.” 

 

“If you found him he probably has a family looking for him.” She said evenly.

  
Clark frowned. “Well… You’re kind of right.”   
  
Lois’s face fell, how mouth dropping open. “Clark Kent, do not tell me you kidnapped a baby with Bruce Wayne.”

  
Clark didn’t want to admit it. But that is exactly what he did. “Let me explain…” but Lois was already walking away from him. “Lois, listen to me! I did kidnap him, okay? But if you found out from where you’d-”   
  
“I don't care if his home was terrible, you can't just kidnap a baby! You have to go through proper channels, police, adoption agencies-”  
  
“He's my _clone_ Lois.” He implored, holding Lois steady as she started to waver on her feet again. “I found him in a lab, okay? what? Was I just meant to leave him there? God knows what Luthor-”  
  
“Luthor?” she suddenly stood up straight, her face stern. Clark tried not to roll his eyes. Of course his name brought out reporter mode. “What does he have to do with anything?”  
  
“They’re _his_ labs. Cadmus may do one thing on paper, but it does something entirely different behind closed doors.”  
  
“Oh my God.” Lois let out, her smile evident. “What a story! We could ruin Luthor with this! If people found out-”  
  
But Clark’s hands were on her again, keeping her still, his face ashen. “People _can't_ find out Lois. This was top secret, no one knows we have Cyrus and if you reported it they’d know someone would’ve had to have told you. They want Cyrus back bad and who knows what they’d do to you to fine out where he is.”

 

Lois’s smile faded, turning back to a quiet look of question. “I see...” She shook her head with a sigh. “I know I can’t... and I won't!” she said loudly for Clark’s sake when he made a face. “But God damn it Clark, this story would have ruined him. Cloning babies? There's stuff even he can’t recover from.”  

  
“I know Lois, but me and Bruce are trying to find out what we can about all this. There’s more labs apparently, doing other projects and well.” he swallowed hard. “Let's just say I want to stop him just as much as you do.”

 

“Of course.” She reached for his face, her hand resting there. “God Clark, I don’t even know what to say. I guess all I can say is if I hear anything, anything at all about Luthor, you’ll be the first to know.”    
  
“Thanks Lois.” He smiled. “What would I do without you?” 

  
“Crash and burn of course.” She smirked. “Anyway, we better head back down. Bet Perry is already thinking of firing us both, less hassle for him after all.” 

  
“After you.” He said with a flourish. As she walked past he followed. 

 

He didn’t want to go back down. He was quite content to spend his day up here if it wasn’t for the literally heart attack it would cause Perry. He felt free up here with Lois, with no need to hide who he was anymore. 

 

When he reached his desk she sent him a knowing smile before walking away. Leaving Clark to try and work and also thinking about everything that had already happened today.

  
As well as dread everything that was still to come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time for when things get super cereal for the Batfam as they try to do the impossible: Have dinner. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Be sure to kudos and comment if you did, love hearing what you thought. Until next time!


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